Bushido
by lembas7
Summary: Recent events have Daniel resigning from the SGC. Yet on his last mission, his hidden talents with the sword are called upon to save his team. Captured by proud samurai, the only hope of SG1 lies in Daniel following the Way of the Warrior . . .
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The research I did precludes my staking claim to Amaterasu, Budo and the Martial Way, among others. This is a post-Menace season 5 AU fic off the "Daniel is a Nigh-Time Ninja" tidbit, courtesy Michael Shanks. Stargate, obviously, doesn't belong to me either.

BUSHIDO

Daniel heaved a soft sigh. Pulling off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the time, blinking in the corner of his computer screen. 0035. Nearly 1 a.m. When had he started thinking in military time? he wondered, then dismissed the question with a shake of his head.

The translation sitting in front of him was fully complete, the touch-ups and refinements finished a half-hour ago. The archaeologist glanced around the room, noting the other piles of work to be done, and pursed his lips, feeling his heart crack just that little bit more.

Turning to the computer, he finished the final sentence of the letter, and then read it over. His attention wandered twice before he could drag it back to the brief missive, which he automatically saved to file and buried in the secure depths of the massive USAF hard-drive.

He knew the time was coming when SG-1 would be expected out actively in the field once more. The last few missions had been simple – mineral and botanical samplings – to allow the team to get back on their feet after the disastrous replicator incident. His arm had healed long ago. His heart hadn't.

Daniel sat back, trying to think of where it had all gone wrong.

It wasn't simple. The NID cover-up had been truly a rude awakening for him. Forgiveness had never been the issue, though he had been angry for a short time. It had been hard all around, a complex issue pitting the good of the many over the good of the individual. Daniel winced, running a shaking hand over his face in utter exhaustion. He tried to tell himself that it had only been temporary, in any case, but that was somewhat akin to using a gauze pad to try to staunch a sucking chest wound. Forgiveness was never easy, but forgetting was even harder. Some essential element of trust had shattered in Jack's living room, and Daniel had to wonder now if it was broken beyond repair. He'd tried, hiding his wariness and unease around the others. He'd been conscious of a subtle difference ever since Jack had forced him to react, instead of act, to leave in order to allow the colonel to infiltrate the NID. That had changed everything. Recalling the ugly scene in Jack's living room, Daniel shuddered.

He didn't know if that had been the beginning, but it blazed in his mind as the catalyst of how easy it would be to tear SG-1 apart. The team didn't function without Jack – Daniel firmly believed that he was the core, the charisma that held them together. It had been hard for them to face how bereft they felt without him, and the knowledge was most unwelcome.

Things hadn't been the same since then, sliding away from him so gradually that by the time he noticed, Sam and Teal'c were firmly entrenched by Jack's side, a seemingly unbreachable gap between them – and him. The proof had been Euronda. Even thinking about that incident made Daniel slump dejectedly back in his chair, the hot shame of humiliation curling within him. He'd been fully aware of the consequences of questioning Jack in front of the Eurondans, knew that it was never wise to appear to have a divided front in the face of opposition. But he seriously doubted that Jack was able to hear him any other way – a fact which he was still internally debating.

The battle had always been an uphill one, he mused, hating the feeling of chilly detachment winding sinuously through him. From the moment he had entered the Stargate program, he'd had to fight tooth and nail for respect and acknowledgement. A part of him knew that yes, respect should be earned. Another part was crying out at the injustice of a respect that was so rarely shown that its appearance heralded bewilderment. The jibes and remarks that Jack had always made during missions had become more cutting, and less friendly, over the past few months. He was, he conceded reluctantly, tired of the censure, tired of being degraded. While he loved Sam and Teal'c, their silence was tacit support of the colonel's position. Somehow, without his knowing it, he'd been edged to the outside again. He fought to be heard, fought to do the right thing. He'd been battling twice as much as the others since the start - he'd been combating them in order to wage war on the Goa'uld. As he was just now realizing, wars fought on two fronts were seldom won. Denying this battle had only, in the end, prolonged the unacknowledged conflict.

Daniel turned contemplative eyes once more to his resignation letter. It said none of this, of course. It was barely eight sentences long. The simple request stated that he was leaving the program, and gave none of his reasons. The real reason had taken Daniel himself a long time to realize. He had nothing more to give, nothing more with which to fight. His colleagues - he could no longer think of the team any other way - had finally succeeded where the NID and Goa'uld couldn't, simply by wearing him down. It went against everything he was to quit. He had held out against this for a long time, but the last several missions had brutally shown him that whatever he had accomplished in the last few years was being steadily negated, sometimes with his own assistance.

With all these thoughts swirling in his head, Daniel reached automatically for his journal, to try to sort out some of his turmoil. He opened to a blank page, and stared. He just - couldn't. Turning the page, he glanced at the date of the last entry, and was surprised to find that it was nearly a month ago. He'd been so tense, for so long, that he would shatter to pieces if something didn't give. With a sour taste in his mouth, he confronted the knowledge that the only thing that could yield without snapping was he himself.

Glancing at the clock, he found that it was now 1:15 am. This day was the last of their downtime - there was a mission briefing the morning after, and a mission scheduled to leave that afternoon.

Daniel shut down his computer and stood. He stretched stiffly, and then grabbed his jacket, leaving all his papers and books in his office. He needed to relax, and he could think of only one way to do that - in the process, wiping all thoughts of translations and enemy parasites from his mind. He'd missed so many practices as it was.

Daniel walked through the nearly empty corridors to the locker room, and changed. He opened his locker, looked at the three extra pairs of clothes, and took two down. He cleaned out some of the excess items as well, personal things that he knew he would be better off taking now.

Moving to the elevator, he waited in silent deliberation. After signing out and plodding tiredly to his car, he realized that his choice had been a long time in the making. He simply was no longer able to find joy in his life. He hadn't been truly happy since Abydos, but he accepted his own unhappiness as a consequence of opening the Stargate. The truth was bitter, but he knew that only he was at fault for his life. Sha'uri's death twisted within him like a knife, bleeding a little more every day. She was the first thing on his mind each morning, and Daniel rarely got through a day without thinking of her.

He was thinking of her now, he wryly recognized, turning the key in the ignition. His mind was a blessed numbness until he reached the highway, when it picked up the thread exactly where it had fallen.

That pain was somehow harshly compounded by the increased military focus of their missions. They were no longer a first contact team, rather a _de facto_ fighting unit. Daniel had adjusted to the increasing violence in an effort to avoid being cast aside; but he could feel himself closing off, shutting down, even more. Bit by slow bit, his soul was being chipped away. It . . . hurt.

Leaving now, getting out, was his only last-ditch means of survival. He had done it before, was no stranger to cutting loose and starting over. After the second abusive foster home, he'd known what he had to do. He'd simply packed his backpack, gone to school one day, and never gone back. True, he'd been picked up by Social Services three states away, but it had been enough to get him out of that jurisdiction. He'd been able to talk his way out of being returned.

But this was different. Jack, Teal'c and Sam – they had coaxed him from his solitude, blasted away his precious ability to be alone without being assaulted by loneliness. And now the utter isolation he felt ripped viciously into him with every breath. They were never further away than those moments when, physically, they stood side by side.

Daniel made the last turn slowly, pulling his car into the parking lot behind his building. Gathering up his things and locking the car, he made his way up to his apartment. Clothes were haphazardly tumbled into the laundry basket, miscellaneous items thoughtlessly cast onto the kitchen table.

For a moment he stared at the loft, which in the semi-darkness and its half-packed state looked foreign and unwelcoming. Suddenly unable to stand it, he moved to his bedroom, which he had held off packing for the obvious reason. Surrounded by comforting familiarity, he felt able to breathe again and sat on the bed, slowly peeling off his clothes before crawling under the covers to try to dream himself back into happier days.


	2. Chapter 2

Jolted into wakefulness, Daniel peered outside. The sun was out, weakly shining through the many clouds covering the sky. His heavy thoughts of the previous night had plagued his dreams, relentlessly following him into wakefulness. Focused on the motions of his everyday routine, Daniel showered, ate, and changed into a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt. Pulling on socks and shoes, he slung his katana over his back, and made his way to the dojo.

Halfway through his first year at the Stargate program, Daniel had realized that he was unsuited for the work he had to do. If he wanted to keep traveling through the gate, he needed to be fit, and in top physical condition.

There was more to exercise that mindless weight-lifting, however. He needed to feel engaged, needed to be challenged and interested, instead of simply working out in the gym on base. So he had signed up to learn Budo, the Japanese Martial Way, at a local dojo. It had taken a long time for him to become comfortable with his body, to build up the strength that the exercise required. Those concepts, rather than technique and practice, had been the major obstacles in his path. In a mild fit of embarrassed self-consciousness, he had decided to avoid mentioning this to any of his team – especially since his progress was relatively slow.

Eventually, he'd become proficient, moving on to combat with a staff. This had taken more time to master – yet had in a way been easier. To center his focus on an object, a tool in his hands, took his mind away from its painful preoccupation with what his body was supposed to be doing. The next step, roughly two years into the program, had been knife combat - a real, every-day skill given the muggings that occurred in the streets of Colorado Springs. The katana had been the final step. He'd been reluctant to start, but the master had insisted. Daniel had been practicing Kendo, the Way of the Sword, for about three years now. He'd only recently graduated from using his wooden bokken to practicing with a steel katana.

This step was particular to his dojo. He was one of three in his class using a steel katana in practicing the kata of Kendo. Most of the other students used shinai, the bamboo sword, and bogu, protective gear. A functional katana was more difficult to control. It was different – while the balance was comparable to a bokken, the weight was something to which he had needed to become accustomed, and honed steel glided more easily through the movements than a cumbersome bamboo sword.

Daniel gave no thought to the fact that he had mastered the ten kata of Kendo, the parts of both the _Uchitachi_ and the _Shidachi_, or attacker and defender, in under a year. He didn't rush himself, and made sure he was completely confident of every move, before acquiescing to the wishes of his dojo master to move him forward.

Pushing the door open, Daniel found himself an hour early for the lesson, and there were only three others present, including the dojo master, Jiro. Daniel smiled, waved, and took off his shoes and socks.

Respectfully, he bowed, moved onto the mat, and laid down his katana. Beginning to stretch, he saw Jiro moved towards him. "Today, I think we shall practice _Gokaku-Geiko._" Daniel nodded his understanding. He was surprised by his own enthusiasm for this sparring between two kendoists of similar skill level. "You and I shall pair," Jiro stated. The class contained an odd number of students, and so when there was sparring practice now, Daniel usually ended up working on his katas while Jiro helped the newer students. Daniel's insane schedule often meant that he missed two weeks of practice in a row, and then came every day for a month. He was surprised that he would be full-out sparring with Jiro, however. Usually, when they sparred, it was in the form of _Hikitaki-Geiko_, the teacher leading the student through the fight.

Daniel continued to stretch, breathing deeply and emptying his mind, preparing for the fight to come. Shaking out his fingers and bending carefully to touch the toes of each outstretched leg as he sat on the floor, Daniel relaxed into the feel of muscles gently expanding and contracting throughout his body. After several minutes, he indicated to Jiro that he was ready. The master, fully fifteen years older than him, smiled and handed him his katana. Daniel grasped the situation immediately once Jiro drew his own weapon and stood, ready, in the middle of the mat. The other two students backed off to the side, respectfully seating themselves out of the way to watch.

There would be no protective gear utilized in this match - just the two men, and controlled steel. The ultimate test of precision and skill.

With a sharp nod, Jiro indicated that the fight begin.

The two men circled each other, blades extended, hands out as counterpoint balance. With a short shout, Jiro attacked. Daniel easily parried, twisting around and into the blade, turning and cutting for Jiro's side. Jiro's blade caught his, and he struck out, pushing Daniel away.

The fight continued fiercely, the attacks passing back and forth between the two, neither giving an advantage nor showing weakness. Daniel's advantage in height and reach was easily ameliorated by Jiro's expansive experience. Minutes passed, filled with cutting and parrying, blocking and ducking. Jiro, knocked to the floor, flipped to his feet and attacked with a yell. Daniel met the attack smoothly, stepped back and launched himself into the air, flipping over Jiro's head to land behind him.

By this time both men were covered in sweat, muscles straining and vying for control of the bout. They had been fighting for a solid half-hour. Daniel, ready to end the battle, attacked with a complex series of cuts and thrusts, then seemed to give ground.

Seconds later, Jiro was kneeling on the floor, his katana lying firmly out of reach, and the blade of Daniel's weapon at his throat.

Daniel slowly lowered the blade to his side and bowed, holding the position as Jiro reached his feet. Jiro smiled slowly, looking down upon the short hair of the most proficient student he had ever had. "Rise, Daniel," he said simply.

Daniel glanced up and straightened. Jiro clasped his shoulder. "Very well done," he praised warmly. Daniel blinked. Jiro was well known for his aversion to both criticism and complements – his skills lay in guiding and instruction.

Daniel glanced down. "I actually wanted to talk with you today," he responded quietly, speaking for the first time that day. Jiro's eyes narrowed at the barely concealed sorrow in his tone. "I'm going to be leaving Colorado Springs soon."

"Why?" Jiro asked simply, moving away from the center of the mat, freeing space for his students to continue their practice and with one hand gesturing for them to do so.

Daniel joined him. "I've decided to leave my job. I've been searching for work, and have found a position on a dig in Jerusalem. I'll be leaving in two weeks, after I've wrapped up some issues at the Mountain."

Jiro rubbed at his neck, just behind his ear, as was his wont when surprised. "How long have you known?" Jiro's attention was riveted to the other man, though his eyes watched the students starting a series of drills on the mat. He motioned for them to continue, and glanced at the archaeologist.

A muscle jumped in Daniel's jaw. "I only made the decision last night, but it's been a long time in coming. I'm displaced where I am, and in the big scheme of things I'm not doing anything that anyone else couldn't. There are - personal reasons, as well," he admitted distantly. Daniel ran a distracted hand over his head, unintentionally ruffling the sweaty hair into spikes.

Jiro slowly nodded. He had paid special attention to this student after noticing the fierce concentration and swift mind couched behind Daniel's unassuming demeanor. He had seen the beginning of this, months and months ago, when it was obvious that something was changing within Daniel. Normally a gentle spirit, the boundaries that had curbed his skill - namely, distaste for violence, had gradually slipped away. The sensitive soul had hardened, armoring itself against pain. But somehow this had not proved to be protection enough, though against what Jiro still wondered. Jiro had watched, with some awe, as again and again Daniel lost himself in the Kendo, his brilliant mind intuitively finding the Bushido. Jiro had never had a student like him.

"I wish you luck, Daniel," he offered quietly, and it was well-meant. A man of few words, he knew that he could come off as brusque, but Daniel made a life out of understanding others.

Daniel nodded slowly, and Jiro turned to the rest of the class, beginning the day's group lesson. Daniel, in contrast, moved to an unused corner of the dojo, taking a small drink and breathing deeply to slow his heart. For several moments he stood, eyes closed, katana held in a double-grip in front of him. As his mind focused to crystal clarity, shedding the pain and misery he refused to capitulate to, he began to practice the graceful moves of the first kata.

The soft noises of other students arriving, of Jiro in the midst of a full group lesson, skittered away from his consciousness, until he was locked in a silent darkness where there was only himself and the weapon. He worked his way through the first kata, gradually speeding up until his motions were a smooth, continuous blur through the remaining katas, always taking the position of the _Uchitachi_, the attacker, the one holding the long sword. He battled against his fears, striking down the doubts and misgivings in the only way he knew.

He worked through the katas again, as the defender, the _Shidachi,_ this time completing only seven. Imagining the redirected energy of the attacker, turned and used to make him stronger, bolstered his spirits. He cracked his eyes slowly, getting used to the bright sunlight as he mulled over the exercises. The last three katas required the _Shidachi_ to be armed with two short bokkan, and were a test in dexterity – a challenge for him on a good day.

He came back to himself to find the dojo empty, a note from Jiro on the door to please lock up and bring the key to him upstairs, as well as an open invitation to return at any time.

Feeling his throat lock, Daniel gathered his belongings, carefully cleaning the katana and locking up the dojo. He refused to think of how long it might be, if he ever returned. He left through the back door, and climbed the outer stairs to the set of rooms above the dojo where Jiro lived. He handed the master the key, and politely declined the offer of a cup of tea, before heading back to his car.

It was Sunday, four in the afternoon, by the time Daniel got home. Taking the recently-cleaned katana, he carefully wrapped the sheathed blade in protective cloth, and put it in a box containing several of his most treasured personal possessions. The box held the few pictured of his parents that he had, and several of the small, personal items he had managed to hang on to during his childhood. Feeling another stab of sadness, Daniel hardened his resolve. It was past time for him to move on.

He moved to the bathroom, glancing at his empty answering machine on the way. The water was set to lukewarm, and he peeled his sweaty clothes off with a small grunt of distaste. For once, he lingered under the spray, keeping his mind a careful blank as he indulged in the play of cool water over skin. And if the shower washed not only soap and sweat but also tears from his body, no one would ever know.


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel was at the mountain at six the next morning, preparing for the briefing at 0730. They were scheduled to go to P5Y-362 for a mineral sample collection, given that there were traces of naquahda in the soil and in a series of caves four miles from the Stargate. It would be a three-day mission, with no sign of lifeforms or civilization in a twenty-mile sweep of the area.

Basically, this would be Sam's show. Daniel planned to spend the time helping as much as he could, though from past experience he knew his contribution would be small. There was no point to his presence on such a mission, but it was to be his last. He determined quite firmly that he would speak to the General as soon as the briefing was over. As he had nothing to contribute to the briefing, he was sitting at his clutter-strewn desk, wishing one of his teammates would stop by and remind him why this would be a mistake. He had made the rounds the first few days like clockwork, stopping in their usual haunts and the commissary, but the other members of his team were rarely around. Jack and Teal'c had gone fishing in Minnesota, and Sam was at home, resting. His calls had been unanswered, and after awhile he had just . . . stopped.

They hadn't seen each other - or he hadn't seen any of them - for the entire eight-day stand down. They had been off for over a week because Sam had sprained her ankle on the last mission, and was only off crutches for the past three days.

Noting the time, 7:10, Daniel gritted his teeth and shook his head, refusing to wallow in self-pity any longer. Hardening himself to the finality of his decision, almost in spite of his inner misery, he printed out the letter. He signed it, put it in a folder containing one other piece of paper, and meandered toward the briefing room, putting the moment off as long as possible.

Despite his care, he was still distressingly early. The room was predictably empty when he got there, and so he sat down to wait, eyes riveted to the folder in front of him, fingers nervously tapping out a beat on the arm of his chair. Ten interminable minutes later the rest of the team entered in a jovial whirl that set him aback a little, widening the distance between them as the archaeologist found he could only listen with a wan smile.

"How was the fishing, Sir?" asked Carter, mischievously twinkling at the Colonel and Teal'c.

"Wonderful," answered Jack, grinning as he mimed casting a line into a nonexistent pond. "Relaxing, peaceful, _quiet_." This last was said with a sidelong look at Daniel that lasted only long enough for the archaeologist to get the point, but not long enough for his CO to see the strained smile vanish behind a concealing façade.

Teal'c did not look happy, and Daniel could see fading mosquito bites all over his head. "On the contrary," the Jaffa intoned darkly. "There were no fish in this lake O'Neill speaks of."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, T," Jack groused, turning exasperatedly to the larger man. "It's not about the fish per se, but the act of fishing itself. It's a time-honored tradition among us Tau'ri, a rite of passage type-thing. Daniel can tell you all about it," Jack finished with the air of one cementing a victory, eyes glinting as he gestured to the archaeologist. Daniel was spared entering into the conversation by the arrival of the General.

He discreetly shifted the folder on the empty chair to his right, out of sight, for the duration of the briefing. He tried to concentrate, for Sam's sake, but found himself glazing over the reports on mineral abundance and botanical potential, concerned with what he was going to say to the general. The prospect left him uncharacteristically speechless. A fine diplomat he made, he snorted quietly to himself, bundling the panic deep down inside. For once, the briefing was short, and Daniel's slightly shocked glances to his watch proved that it wasn't simply his time-sense playing sadistic games on him. As Sam wrapped up, the General nodded. "Does anyone have anything else to add? Dr. Jackson?"

Jack glanced up, jumping in to respond before a sound could pass Daniel's lips. The linguist quickly snapped his half-open mouth shut. "There are no signs of life or civilization on the planet, General. Should be an easy 'gate in, grab the dirt, gate out' mission." Daniel stayed silent.

Hammond nodded as he pushed himself away from the table. "Dismissed." The General walked to his office, leaving the door ajar as SG-1 took their leave. The others quickly stood and left the room, Sam gushing on excitedly about the possible benefits of the naquada, and Jack's teasing comment to "Slow down, Carter," the last thing Daniel heard before the door closed. He was left alone in the briefing room to gather his courage and try to decide how to address his problem to the General.

"Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel jerked and his head flew up, startled. The time had come before he was ready, and he still had no idea how he was going to do this. "Is there something you'd like to discuss?" asked Hammond, noting the scientist's closed face as he walked further into the room. He'd glanced up from his paperwork and observed the archaeologist seemingly frozen in his seat, with an expression of such unhappiness that his concern had immediately been roused. He'd been prompted to his feet and back into the briefing room by that expression, yet looking at the younger man now, he couldn't find a trace of the poignant sorrow that had caught at his heart.

"Yes," murmured Daniel, standing and retrieving the folder. He passed it to the General, whose eyes narrowed slightly at the succinct answer that was very unlike the verbose scientist.

He opened the folder, scanned the short letter and the signed non-disclosure statement, and closed it again. "Is this -"

"The military equivalent of my two-week's notice, sir," Daniel somehow managed to still sound respectful as he gently interrupted the stillborn question.

Hammond looked searchingly at the scientist in front of him. "Would you care to explain why you feel this is necessary?"

Daniel took a deep, steadying breath. "It's become increasingly clear to me that I don't have a place on the team, sir. The focus of the SGC has shifted to more militant pursuits, and that has never been my strength." Hammond shrewdly noticed that Daniel had ignored mentioning his admirable adaptation to the new circumstances. "I'm also aware of a lot of tension within the team, and I feel that is largely due to my presence there. I have - several personal reasons for leaving, but the crux of the matter remains that I'm a civilian archaeologist on a military team," Daniel stated.

Hammond frowned. The archaeologist was now using one of the main points that had stood against him at the inception of the SG program, and Hammond wasn't buying the excuse. As for those personal reasons – if he was going to quit because of Sha're, he would have done so long ago, and the same applied to the Harcessis situation. What possible personal reasons could he be referring to?

Daniel could see that the General didn't fully believe him, and so he continued stubbornly, trying to make his last point as gently as possible. For both their sakes. "I've always had to fight to get people to listen to me, regardless of whether I'm right or wrong." He tactfully left out the fact that, a lot of the time, he was right. In the scheme of things, that didn't really matter. He'd been wrong his fair share as well. "Lately, it's become clear to me that the people I'm fighting most are the members of my own team. It is my job to come up with alternate solutions to violence, and I can't do that when others refuse to listen. This isn't a problem I've been able to fix, General, but one I feel I've been unintentionally exacerbating."

"I can see that this isn't a hasty decision," said Hammond, looking the scientist over carefully. Daniel seemed to relax, and with the gesture Hammond noted the archaeologist's tense posture. His face was pinched and pale, lines of tiredness carved deeply around the tight mouth and weary eyes.

Daniel removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No," he responded, looking up. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

"How long?" asked Hammond carefully, unsure if he wanted to know.

"A little over a year," Daniel responded, a subdued hunch to his shoulders. The General's eyes widened in surprise as he thoughtfully fingered the two pages. He hadn't known the situation was quite that bad, or had been going on for that long.

"Very well," said Hammond, rising. Daniel stood as well. "Complete this mission, and then I'll have SG-1 on stand down until they chose a new fourth." He saw Daniel flinch at the words, and he himself was dismayed. "It will give you time to put everything in order," he added unnecessarily. Hammond turned to leave, but stopped at the door, turning to face the somber man standing at the briefing table. "Do you want me to tell them?"

Daniel shook his head firmly as he stood, refusing the coward's way out. "I was planning on letting them know after the debriefing."

Hammond nodded, lingering in the doorway. "I'll arrange for them to stay after the debriefing is formally closed."

Daniel nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Hammond jerked his head once, in acknowledgement, and then went to his office. Shutting the door, he threw the folder down on his desk and cursed shockingly. How had this happened? How had no one noticed Daniel's unhappiness, the factors that led to his resignation? Hammond slumped angrily in his chair. He would wait, until it was clear whether or not Dr. Jackson could be persuaded to stay. He would wait until he had no choice but to put the papers through. It was clear that Daniel wasn't going to change his mind without help from SG-1, and for the first time Hammond doubted the capabilities of his premier team.

Now that he thought to look, the situation was appallingly obvious. Dr. Jackson was on the outside looking in when it came to his team, and none of the other members of the team seemed to notice, or more frighteningly, care. It seemed that Daniel had been struggling with this for a long time. Hammond, knowing of the man's history, didn't blame him for pulling out – but he couldn't understand how this had been concealed for such a long time. There was only so much unhappiness and pain anyone could take, and for Daniel most of it came through the job. The universe seemed to have a special grudge against one Dr. Daniel Jackson. The Stargate had been countlessly cruel toward the one who had first opened her.

Casting his thoughts back, the General thought that the entire mess had probably started with the NID infiltration, and cursed himself once again. He'd known that the setup had the chance of crippling his best team, and hadn't seen an alternative. When the situation played out, it hadn't seemed so bad. Now, however, he realized that the NID stint had been the falling of a few rocks starting a landslide.

From then on, it had been incident after incident, piling pressure and strain upon all the team, but the last year had been the hardest on Dr. Jackson, by far. Hammond glared at the folder, and sighed, moving to his desk. Sitting down, he picked up the phone and called his secretary, telling her to compile files of all the members of the SG teams, as well as those in training. He would put the task of choosing a new fourth member squarely in the hands of SG-1. Not only did he not want to have to contemplate the distasteful task, but he also grimly thought unless they could fix this problem, they would reap the disaster they had sown.


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel glanced at the clock again. He closed the box he was filling, having made a significant dent in packing up his extensive library. His personal items, like the picture of Sha'uri, and their wedding cup, had been the first things to be carefully wrapped and packaged. His desk, for the first time, was neat; piles of translations-in-waiting carefully stacked and marked with the appropriate references.

If he didn't leave now, he would never be able to gear up in time. On his last trip through the Stargate, he wanted to watch all the chevrons encode, and be there for the full dialing sequence. It was a little thing, but it did mean a lot to him.

He went to the locker room, and was almost halfway geared up when Teal'c and Jack arrived. The Colonel raised a brow in surprise. "Turning over a new leaf, Danny? I'm shocked," he drawled. "You might actually be on time."

"Sure, Jack," the archaeologist replied carelessly. He picked up his gear and left.

Jack frowned at the retreating back, and looked at Teal'c. The Jaffa raised an eyebrow, silently and eloquently. "What's eating him?" he asked.

"I did not notice any carnivores attempting to devour Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied.

Jack gave Teal'c a _look_, shook his head, then shrugged. It didn't matter, he'd find out soon enough. The two geared up and made their way to the 'Gateroom. Jack was surprised to find Daniel waiting for all of them, staring pensively at the 'Gate as the wormhole exploded and then retracted. The light from the event horizon bathed his features, and Jack could've sworn he saw unhappiness flicker across Daniel's face.

For his part, Daniel waited for the rest of the team to go through, taking one last look around the 'Gateroom. He stepped into the event horizon, and was roughly tossed out onto another world.

"Carter!" Jack snapped, standing up from where he had sprawled in the dirt. Daniel, who had unconsciously shifted his balance to keep his feet, had only been slammed into the DHD. He sucked in a quick breath, wincing a bit, and helped a groaning Sam rise.

"Sir?" she asked, brushing dirt from her BDU's.

"I thought we fixed it so we wouldn't get tossed out on our butts!"

"Sir, there's _no_ way to fix that," Carter replied, a little irritated. Teal'c was standing by the MALP, a brow quirked as he listened to the team gather themselves. The majority of his attention was, as ever, focused on their surroundings.

"Daniel, check it out," Jack ordered.

The archaeologist glanced over the DHD, finding the correct final symbol for this planet, and pointed it out to the others before turning from the device.

Daniel surveyed the planet. It was a rolling plains, dotted with scrub and trees. The hilly landscape gave way to mountains within five miles of the 'Gate, with a few trees dotting the rocky sides.

"Let's go, campers," said Jack authoritatively. "Teal'c, take point. I'm on our six. Carter? Ready?"

She looked up from her cases of sampling equipment and nodded. Daniel reached out and grabbed a case, while Sam grabbed the second. The team began to make the trip in relative silence, Sam monitoring her equipment and every so often calling for a halt so that she could collect a vial of dirt.

About two miles into the trek, Daniel began feeling uneasy, as if he was being watched. He covertly observed his companions. Teal'c seemed more alert than usual. Though Jack was joking lightly with Sam as she scooped dirt, his hand didn't stray far from his P-90. Sam herself was paying more attention to her surroundings than her sample, surprisingly. They could all feel that something was wrong, but each carefully avoided mentioning it.

Looking around carefully, Daniel noticed the light from the two suns glinting off metal in the distance, and he froze, taking several steps forward. Focusing on the light, he listened as Sam packed away her sample and Jack gave the order to move out. A cloud moved over the sun, and the reflected rays disappeared.

"Daniel!" The archaeologist jumped as Jack, coming up behind him, snapped out his name. "We're moving out. Come on."

"I thought I saw something," Daniel said, gazing back toward the hills.

"What?"

"I think the sun was reflecting off metal, of some sort."

"Teal'c? Did you see anything?" Jack snapped, shooting an irritated glance at the Jaffa's back. Daniel's lips pressed together in a tight line.

The Jaffa turned toward their position, but never abandoned his intense scrutiny of their surroundings. His voice was uncharacteristically terse. "I did not, O'Neill."

Daniel, facing away from his companions, winced. "I don't think this planet is as uninhabited as it appears, Jack."

"It was probably nothing, Daniel," said Jack, dismissing his concerns. "Let's head out. We've still got a ways to go."

Daniel shook his head in resignation. Pushing the issue would certainly do nothing but lengthen their stay, and for once, the archaeologist just wanted to get back to Earth. Resolving to stay on the alert, he followed Jack and fell into step just behind Sam. Again, the feeling that he was being scrutinized followed him, but he kept his uncertainty in check, locked behind the wall that contained his emotions, the wall that was growing steadily thicker and taller.

Wary, he gazed around himself, feeling more and more certain that someone was observing them as they walked. He kept one hand close to the Beretta strapped to his thigh. Although he disliked the weapon intensely, knowing that he was ready to use it was a form of reassurance in itself.

Daniel's agitation, though he tried to carefully screen it behind a blank mask, grew, and he knew that his unease was being blatantly telegraphed to both his team and the invisible watchers.

In a surprising split of the team, Jack and Teal'c progressed into the caves first, and Daniel and Sam waited outside.

"The possibilities of finding naquadah here are incredible," the blonde scientist said, smiling. "The trace amounts have been substantially increasing, and my reading here show a considerable source. The planet is uninhabited, and if this pans out it could be a great advantage for the SGC."

Daniel, now, seriously doubted that this would pan out, but he threw a half-hearted smile her way.

His smile disappeared, and his head whipped around, as he heard a distinct noise in the brush. "Daniel?" asked Sam, noting his sudden movement.

Daniel sighed, and stood from where he'd been leaning against the mountainside. "I think that we're going to have to increase the sweep area for the UAV's," he said dryly. "Twenty miles doesn't seem to be enough."

"What are you -" Sam abruptly cut off as a man appeared from the brush. Daniel glanced at him, his eyes flickering around the grove. The man smiled slightly, and gave a signal that had many other men, armed, appearing in a circle around the cave mouth.

"Sir," Sam whispered into her radio. "Sir!" there was no response. "Damn, the mountain must be blocking the signal," she hissed.

Daniel stepped forward, hands out, and looked carefully at the people around him. All were reasonably tall, and slender, with a definite Asian cast to their features. Their clothes were simple, pants and short robe-like shirts belted across the middle, colored to blend into their surroundings. Each man carried a weapon, most holding swords and short knives with a definite Japanese style.

The first man to step forward, obviously the leader, took a stride towards Daniel. "You have trespassed on our sacred ground," he said simply. His voice was as dark as his sable hair, the threat promising retribution.

Daniel bowed simply, from the waist, palms flat on his thighs. "I extend our apologies to you," he responded, sensing the danger and trying to diffuse the threat. "We come to your world through the Chappa'ai, the Stargate," he said, pointing in it's direction. "We know nothing of your ways, but never would we wish to offend."

"It is far too late for that," the man decreed, his face a visage contorted with controlled anger. "You have tread upon the land sacred to Amaterasu, tengri!"

Daniel glanced at the cave, and swore silently. "Had we not, would you have allowed us to go free?"

"That is of little consequence," the man returned. Daniel's heart sank. "As defilers of the sacred cave of Amaterasu, I claim you as my prisoners. You shall be brought before our people and judged accordingly."

Just when Daniel thought that they'd hit rock bottom, Teal'c and Jack emerged from the cave. The man in front of him immediately drew his sword, pointing it at Daniel's throat.

Jack and Teal'c raised their weapons immediately.

Mexican standoff.

Daniel carefully raised his hands to either side, knowing that the only way out of this for them was to allow their captors to take them to be judged, and hopefully talk their way out of it. His teammates, he knew, would not see that as an option. But Daniel knew something of the tradition of Japanese warrior clans. They had evolved long ago, devoting themselves to the protection of the life and property of local feudal lords, in exchange for livelihood. They did nothing but practice, fight, and die for their Shugan. Each man in this party was probably trained from childhood. In other words, automatic weapons or not, they didn't stand a chance in this proximity.

Daniel slowly sank to his knees, keeping his body straight and eyes locked on the man's face. A slight flicker of surprise was revealed at this show of acquiescence. Daniel was acknowledging the man's superior fighting force, but not his dominance. "I follow the Bushido," he said lowly, so that only the men around him heard. "I claim the rights due to me."

"You are tengri from the east," the man scoffed.

"No," Daniel insisted. "I can prove it!"

"How?" The man was clearly skeptical.

Daniel responded simply, "Let me show you." He slowly pulled out his knife, and pushed up the sleeve to his jacket.

"Daniel?" asked Jack, worry in his voice.

Daniel ignored him, and cut a shallow gash across the back of his forearm. Red blood welled up. "I am not tengri," he claimed. "Neither are they. We are as you."

The man stared at Daniel carefully. "You may not be tengri," he said finally. Suspicion still colored his voice. "Yet it is grave for mortals to trespass in the cave of the goddess."

"Daniel!" called Jack, his voice angry.

"I bow to the judgement of your people," Daniel said softly.

"And these?" the man said, gesturing to the others.

"They are under my protection," Daniel said firmly, ignoring the ridiculousness of the idea.

"Then they are extended the same rights as you," the man said. He lowered his sword, and Daniel rose to his feet.

Each man bowed, and Daniel waited for the other man to turn away first. Sighing, he went to his friends.

"Daniel, what's going on?" demanded Jack.

"Put the gun down," Daniel said softly.

"Not until you tell me what the hell's going on!" Jack retorted, tightening his grip on the gun.

"Put it down!" Daniel snapped, his voice carrying over the clearing. Now was not the time for every moment of mistrust he and Jack had ever experienced to come rushing back.

'_It's not that we don't believe you, Daniel – it's just that we don't believe you.'_

'_If you're ever going to trust me Jack, do it now.'_

'_Flaky on a good day . . .'_

Ruthlessly shoving those thoughts away, he took a step forward, invading Jack's personal space. Surprise echoed on all the team member's faces. "We're their prisoners," he hissed, voice low as he shucked his pack. "I've claimed rights for fair treatment under their laws until we're judged by their rulers. It's conditional on us giving up our weapons and supplies."

"And if we don't?" asked Sam.

"They'll kill us where we stand," Daniel replied succinctly, unstrapping his gun and ejecting the clip. "Make no mistake, they know how to use those swords. If they follow the culture of the ancient Japanese warriors, they've been trained since they were children."

"What?" asked Jack.

"Samurai, Jack," Daniel retorted sharply, crouching to pull out his canteen. He shoved up his sleeve, revealing the shallow gash.

"What happened, Daniel Jackson?" asked Teal'c, eyeing the cut. Daniel pulled his knife, stained with his own blood, from its sheath and plunged it into the earth up to the hilt.

"I had to convince them that we're not tungri," Daniel explained. "They thought we were demons first, I believe." He glanced at the others, and noted that the samurai were approaching. Jack, seeing his glare, sighed and began to reluctantly disarm. Sam and Teal'c followed suit, slowly. "Since we came from the east, they assumed that we were wicked spirits, probably out to cause mischief. But they didn't feel the need to do anything about us until we trespassed."

"Where did we trespass?" Sam asked as the samurai warily surrounded them and whisked away their things.

"The cave is apparently sacred ground."

"They are not going to bind us?" asked Teal'c, raising a brow.

"No," answered Daniel.

"Well, that'll make this much easier, then." The speculation in Jack's voice angered Daniel beyond belief. That he didn't know why now, of all times, he should expect Jack to believe him, made defeat crowd in on him. He took several deep breaths to stave it off, and when he spoke, rage shook his voice.

"Don't you get it, Jack? They're not going to tie us up because they have no need to do so. We would never be able to escape."

"Aren't you being a bit of a defeatist, Daniel?" asked Sam. The words, unexpected and unprepared for, stung.

"No!" he cried, keeping his voice down. "I'm being a realist. They followed us here from practically the Stargate itself, all without giving themselves away in the slightest!"

"Well if you knew, why the hell didn't you say anything?" hissed Jack, cutting in.

Daniel cast disparaging eyes over the colonel, feeling defeat rise up within him. He choked it back again, having to force himself to believe that once he explained, the others would understand. "I did say something, Jack. You dismissed my concerns out of hand because no one else backed me up. But that's not the point - the point is that they have more skill and knowledge of this land than we do, and we would never be able to get away!"

"You never know until you try," Sam pointed out, sensing the archaeologist's distress and trying to soothe. This attitude was very unlike her normally controlled, and mostly-unflappable teammate.

"Dammit, don't you hear what I'm saying!" Daniel cried, loosing patience. "These people have a strict code of honor that governs everything they do. They live and die for it."

"Good for them," Jack muttered.

"And to keep them from feeling honor-bound to kill us here and now, I've had to enter into their system, declare myself one of them, in order to get us a chance to talk our way out of this alive!"

"You've also given us a chance to run for it," Jack said, voice low and intent, interrupting yet again. "And I damn well plan to take advantage of it at the soonest opportunity." Daniel shook his head. Jack was going to get them killed. "Daniel, I know it's your job to deal with the people. But it's my job to get us in and out alive, especially in tight situations. Until you got close to that guy to try to talk to him, there was a chance we could have gotten out of here quickly, with the minimum amount of killing. So just sit back and do what I damn well tell you for once!"

The words cut deeply, and Daniel was startled by how much it hurt. Taking his shocked silence as tacit agreement, Jack stepped away from the huddle SG-1 had created outside the cave mouth. Sam and Teal'c also fell back, following Jack, leaving Daniel alone. Again.

Something inside twisted and tore, splintering to pieces that stabbed his heart and made tears start in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, fortifying himself with the thought of his resignation safely in Hammond's possession, Daniel followed as the rest of SG-1 became part of the line of warriors that were preparing to move out across the plain. He consciously took a step back, and the tears receded to leave him dry-eyed and quivering imperceptibly. Dread weighed him down, and he was caught fast. Honor, and the situation, demanded that he turn his team over to the leader. If he didn't, and they attempted to escape, they could all be killed. If he did - he shuddered. It would never, ever go that far. He would never be able to turn on them like that.

The line of men crossed the plains, the twelve effectively locking SG-1 into the center of their group. Two preceded, two followed, and four flanked the team on each side. Scouts ranged out in several directions, returning to report back continuously throughout the journey. The main group headed northwest across the plains, presumably to the village.

The walk was at a swift jog, and continued for several hours. The members of SG-1 had no difficulty in keeping up, at least for the first part of the journey. Eventually Jack, who was in the head of the line, began to limp, slowing up, exaggerating a knee injury. Daniel knew with a thrill of horror that the attempt would come soon.

Not half an hour later, Jack stumbled and fell. The line ground to a momentary halt, and he attacked. Sam and Teal'c, seeing him begin to fight, also started to resist, attacking the nearest men they could reach.

Daniel did nothing.

He watched as Teal'c knocked two men unconscious, but was felled by three more. He watched as Sam was rendered senseless by a swift blow, and as Jack was forcibly restrained by three of the samurai.

The entire struggle was over within minutes, the pathetic attempt easily subdued. Daniel looked between Jack and Teal'c, still panting fiercely and struggling to get free of the men who pinioned them. The leader, whom Daniel had heard referred to as Senichi, stalked over to him. "Do you still claim the rights of Bushido for these?" he demanded. His entire posture radiated the anger of betrayal.

"I hold myself responsible for their conduct," Daniel replied gravely, in the affirmative.

"You would take their punishments onto yourself?"

"To restore your faith in my honor," Daniel replied. He was outwardly relaxed, but inwardly he was tense and frightened. He knew that it was within Senichi's power to kill them all, and he hoped that the escape attempt hadn't destroyed all faith between them. Now, that was all that had a chance of getting them back to the Stargate alive.

"Dammit Daniel!" Jack shouted, struggling viciously. Two more samurai ran to assist in keeping him restrained.

Daniel closed his eyes briefly, closing in on himself for a moment. Just a moment.

When he opened them, he found Senichi studying him closely. "You care for these?" The quiet question was loaded, but Daniel could not see the end result.

"A man sometimes has no choice in the brothers - and sisters -" he added, with a glance at Sam, "- of his heart."

Senichi nodded thoughtfully, his hand relaxing on the hilt of his weapon. "You have tried to protect them, but it appears that they do not wish it. Your honor, your actions, hold you blameless. However, they have forfeited the right to your protection."

Daniel shook his head in horror. He knew that the honor of the samurai would keep their captives alive, and would prevent them from torture, yet he knew the severity of the punishment this offense would wreak. He opened his mouth to say something, and Senichi cut him off, almost gently. "You can do no more for them until we reach Hokkaido."

Daniel bowed his head in adrenaline-pumped acknowledgement. Inwardly his mind was racing, wondering at the coincidence of this village having the same name as the northernmost isle of Japan.

Senichi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I see pain in your eyes for them," he said softly. "Love and fear, but pain. You protect them so, when it is clear that they have caused you more harm than ever we could."

Daniel turned startled blue eyes upon the samurai. He felt his face twist in grief as he looked at his friends. "Our lives will soon take different paths, and I will walk alone," he said. "But their pain will always be mine."

Senichi sighed. "Then I am sorrowed to add to it," he said. "I have no choice, and am honor-bound."

Daniel nodded. "As am I. I understand."

The two men bowed to each other, and Daniel was left staring at his teammates as their hands were tied. They were each gagged as well. Two samurai lifted Sam effortlessly, and began to carry her, moving at a swift jog. Four took custody of Jack, and four went to Teal'c. These eight unsheathed their weapons, and moved quickly along the plains. Daniel followed, the two samurai guarding him respecting his adherence to their etiquette by not drawing their weapons.

They ran at that speed for the rest of their first day on the planet. With the coming of dusk, the pace slowed to a gentle jog. As soon as the three moons rose high in the sky, Senichi called a halt. Jack, Teal'c, and Sam were heavily guarded, and placed in the center of the small encampment, near the fire. Daniel was left to his own devices.

Sighing, he went to his teammates. Knowing his rights in this culture, he checked them all carefully. Sam had since regained consciousness, and looked confused at his freedom. He removed their gags, but left their bonds in place.

"Daniel, what happened back there?" Jack asked, entire body tense – which was a feat in itself after their exertions that day. Apparently, the long run back had not consumed all his anger. "Why didn't you at least try to help us?"

"I had a good idea of what you were going up against, Jack," Daniel sighed. "We're outnumbered and outmatched here, even for us."

Sam shifted and groaned, and Daniel moved to her. "Sam?" he said softly. She groaned again and he carefully lifted her up. Jack and Teal'c moved over to him, and Sam blinked. "Why aren't you tied, Daniel?"

"He froze," Jack said bluntly. Daniel shook his head, trying to keep the anguish out of his expression.

"Daniel?" Sam turned wide blue eyes on him. Daniel knew that she wasn't looking for a defense, but an explanation, and took another careful emotional step away.

"The cave that Jack and Teal'c entered is sacred on this planet," he responded tightly. "Amaterasu is the sun goddess of Japanese mythology. She - "

"Daniel," came the clipped, expected interruption. "Short version only, please."

Daniel clamped down on a few choice retorts, waiting a moment before replying, "She came into conflict with another god, and fled into a cave. Eventually she was tricked into leaving. The point being that these people think the cave we were in was their goddess' sanctuary, for a time. Holy ground."

That was the extremely condensed version. Ameaterasu had ruled the high plains of heaven, and was gifted by her father, Izanagi, with a sacred bead necklace. Her brother, Susano-wo, had wanted to join his mother in the Japanese underworld. In Izanagi's fury at this revelation, Susano-wo was banished. However, Susano-wo planned to take over Amaterasu's kingdom; and to do so he challenged her to a contest. The more powerful of the two would be able to win by creating more male dieties. Amaterasu broke her brother's sword into three pieces, which she chewed. Each of these pieces became a female goddess. Susano-wo took Amaterasu's fertility beads, and cracked them with his teeth, producing five male gods. He claimed that he had won the contest, but Amaterasu protested because the gods came from her beads. Susano-wo ignored her, and celebrated his victory by wreaking havoc on the earth. Amaterasu was forced to flee in terror and hid in a cave. The world was cast into darkness, and the evil gods had the power to perform their wicked deeds undetected. The good deities beseeched Amaterasu to return to the world, and managed to trick her into doing so after she refused.

Teal'c's brow rose, and Daniel could see that the Jaffa knew something. "Teal'c?"

The large man nodded. "I am familiar with the System Lord Susano-wo. His defeat of Amaterasu is legendary, as is his own downfall at the hands of Seth."

"Sounds like we don't have any Goa'ulds to worry about, then," sighed Jack in relief. "Things are finally on the up."

"Don't count on it," Daniel grimly countered.

"Why?" asked Sam.

"The punishment that they will inflict for trying to escape will be severe. So severe, that they're waiting until we get to their village, Hokkaido."

Jack raised a brow, questioning.

"No one wants to drag along prisoners who are unable to walk, or care for themselves," the archaeologist unwillingly clarified.

"Daniel?" Jack's voice rose alarmingly.

Teal'c saved Daniel the trouble of answering. "What will this punishment be?"

"I have no idea," Daniel answered.

"Well, peachy," Jack commented acerbically, but Daniel told himself he was accustomed to it by now, and shook his head.

"Daniel."

Daniel turned, to see Senichi calling his name. He stood, turned to the man, and bowed.

"That happens a lot around here," he heard Jack whisper. The uncharitable thought that he should have replaced the gags flew into his head and he banished it with a frown.

"Senichi."

"We are not far from Hokkaido. Tomorrow we will enter the village, and you will be judged by the priest and priestess of Amaterasu." Senichi glanced at the remainder of SG-1. "I will see that you have food and drink."

Daniel bowed again. "Thank you."

Senichi bowed and strode into the darkness. Daniel turned to his friends. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling sick at heart. "But I can't untie you. It would be a breach of trust."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" snarled Jack, patience gone. He pulled at his bonds, fury overcoming his good sense.

"Seeing as how that trust is the only thing keeping them from killing you, no, we wouldn't," responded Daniel wearily. "I know you have a hard time with trust, Jack, but suck it up. I will gag you myself before I let you get us any deeper than we already are."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam, carefully covering for the colonel's open-mouthed shock.

Daniel sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is an extremist culture. Honor is the only thing that keeps these nomadic bands from eradicating one another. It's - it's a survival mechanism. The ability to trust in a common code, no matter what other differences or beliefs a tribe may have, is the only saving grace these people have." Daniel straightened, not allowing himself to slump. "Can you see how important that is?"

"Daniel, how great was that breach of trust we created by trying to escape?" Sam asked, eyes wide.

Daniel could see that his words were finally having an impact. Teal'c as well was looking grim. Grimmer than usual.

"They would be well within their rights to kill us, would they not, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel nodded, relieved that they finally _got_ it, were finally _listening_. He saw Senichi approaching, holding a cup and a bowl. "Nourishment," the man offered.

"My thanks," Daniel replied, bowing once more. He sniffed the liquid in the cup, which appeared to be only water, and looked at the tiny, plump rice granules in the bowl. Two small sticks, eating implements, were also located there.

"You will get no more," he cautioned. "Do not waste." Senichi bowed and walked off.

Daniel returned to his friends, who had caught the entire exchange.

"Well then, glass of water, crust of bread, eh, Dannyboy?" Jack said.

"I take it that means you're thirsty," Daniel replied, sitting down. He carefully held the cup to the lips of each teammate, himself consuming the dregs.

"Whatcha got there?" asked Jack, leaning over.

"I think it's this planet's version of the MRE," Sam intoned baldly.

"Indeed," said Teal'c, after Daniel fed him the first bite. "What type of vegetable is this, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel grimaced. "Rice. I think. Not actually a vegetable. It's a grain, of some sort."

"Interesting. The taste is not unlike that of chicken."

Jack snorted, and even Daniel cracked a smile.

Moving on, Daniel gave Sam her quarter of the portion, listening to the banter between Jack and Teal'c.

"You know, fish is commonly served with rice."

"I find myself hesitant to trust that information, O'Niell."

"Why?" the indignant question rang out.

"Having never caught a fish, I would not assume that you have the experience in knowing what other foods would be best served with such a dish."

Relaxing a little at Jack's sputtering, Daniel smiled at Sam. "Thanks," she whispered. "Daniel?" she caught his attention as he moved to Jack, and he half-turned. The firelight shadowed his face. "You're doing a good job," Sam said.

A bitter smile flickered over Daniel's face. Too little, too late. But all he said was, "Thanks, Sam. We'll know more tomorrow."

She nodded, and leant back, attempting to make herself comfortable on the ground between Jack and Teal'c.

Jack's noises cut off abruptly, and she could hear the silence. Was it really so long ago that Daniel would have been coaxing Jack to eat, the two of them exchanging a friendly banter over the food, company, and general state of things? Now, there was a strange tension between them that pulled the whole team out of sync.

Jack lay down as well. "Daniel, first watch. I'll take second, Teal'c third, Carter fourth."

Noises of assent came from all the team, and Teal'c settled into kel'no'reem as Carter and Jack drifted to sleep.

Daniel moved to the opposite side of the fire, eating his cold food and contemplating the following day. In all likelihood, the Shogun who commanded the loyalty of Senichi and his samurai would turn SG-1 over to the priest and priestess of Amaterasu for judgement and sentencing. Daniel hoped that he could talk their way out of punishment, not wanting to think about the alternatives. If there was no other option, however, he could claim his rights under the code of Bushido . . .

Daniel shivered. There might, just might, be a way out of this if worse came to worst.


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn saw the replacement of the gags. Camp, such as it was, was cleared within a quarter of an hour after the first sun had risen. Within two hours, Hokkaido came into sight. Daniel estimated that they had been marched thirty to thirty-five miles from the Stargate, having traveled in excess of twelve hours the previous day.

Inside their high walls, the people lived in well-constructed homes, consisting of a wooden floor, walls and roof. The main space of each home was divided into rooms by curtain cloths that hung from the ceiling. The largest, grandest home stood on the incline of the great hill in the center of the town.

"We must bring you to our Shogun, Lord Yasuo," Senichi informed him. "He will, in deference to your crime, give you to the priest and priestess of Amaterasu for judgement."

Daniel nodded, understanding.

The four members of SG-1 were herded together up the steps, completely surrounded by armed samurai.

More warriors were posted at intervals on the large porch, which extended along the front of the house. The decorations were ornate, boldly colorful and exotic, reverberating with splendor.

Senichi led the group up the stairs, past the guards. A set of samurai opened the doors, and SG-1 was escorted through several lavishly decorated rooms to the Shogun.

Lord Yasuo was younger than Daniel, and looked to be about twenty-five years old. He was wearing the same rough-spun cloth as the men who were pledged to him, but the stitching was finer, and the robe decorated with flowing designs. Everything about him radiated competent control, and power.

Senichi stood tall. "Lord, these were found wandering the eastern portion of your lands. They come from Izanagi's Eye, yet are neither god nor tungri. They trespassed in the Cave of Amaterasu." Daniel narrowed his eyes slightly. The samurai's posture and confidence in addressing Yasuo were unusual. He had expected the man to show some sort of deference to the Lord who commanded him, and yet there was no sign of submission from the warrior.

The young Lord said nothing, and gazed upon each of the members of SG-1 in turn. He pointed to Daniel, singled out as the only one of the four unbound. Senichi said, "This one calls himself Daniel. He has claimed the rights of Bushido. His companions forfeited his protection by breaking faith, and attempting to escape."

The Lord's eyes rose, but he was still silent. Daniel remained calm, met the Lord's gaze, and bowed his head slightly, never breaking eye contact.

The two locked gazes, and the Lord said, "Though they walked upon my lands, they must answer for a higher crime."

Senichi raised a fist to his heart, and the Lord nodded. This seemed to be a signal, for SG-1 was hustled immediately from the room. The samurai brought them to an outer hut, its construction blatantly solid, unlike the misleading delicacy of the main house's structure. Bars blocked the one window, and there was a secure bar across the door.

They were unceremoniously led inside, the door barred again. Daniel quickly moved to each of his teammates, untying their hands and pulling the gags free. Jack threw the strips of cloth into a far corner, and Sam looked on, rubbing her raw wrists.

"That was fun," said Jack. "Let's do it again sometime. Not!" Daniel moved to the barred window, looking out. "What's the deal with this judgement? Daniel?"

"We'll be brought before the priest and priestess of Amaterasu," the archaeologist answered. "They'll be told our story, probably by Senichi, and the priest and priestess will pass judgement. We'll have a chance to speak."

"Ah. Well then."

Before they had a chance to speak further, the door was opened. Daniel turned, and saw Lord Yasuo and two samurai enter. He looked at the three member of SG-1 who had been tied, and said shortly, "Bring them."

Daniel was unable to stop himself from moving forward as Yasuo turned and left. One of the samurai stepped in front of him, hand on the hilt of his sword. The threat was clear. Nonetheless, Daniel still moved when more samurai entered the hut, surrounded Jack, Sam and Teal'c, and took them away. He found an edge of honed steel at his throat, and immediately stopped. He glared at the warrior in front of him, and the samurai lowered his weapon slowly.

By the time noise outside the door attracted his attention, Daniel was nearly frantic with worry. It had been several hours since his teammates had been forced out of the hut at the end of samurai blades. He backed to the wall opposite the door, hoping that whoever was coming would quickly open the door.

Lord Yasuo was the first to appear, taking one step inside the hut and looking squarely at Daniel. The archaeologist remained standing tall, keeping eye contact with the young Shogun. "Your friends have been brought to justice for their breach of faith with my warriors," Yasuo said.

Dread slammed into Daniel, a physical force that knocked him backwards a step. Yasuo moved sideways, clearing the doorway. Several samurai brought the remainder of SG-1 back to the hut. Teal'c was the only one still on his feet. Jack and Sam, the former unconscious, were carried in and laid facedown on the floor.

Daniel was checking them over before the door had fully closed. "Teal'c?" he asked, quickly checking Jack for a head injury. "How are you doing?"

Glancing up at the Jaffa warrior, Daniel could see that his face was drained of color, expression pained. "I must begin kel'no'reem as soon as possible. My symbiote will heal me. I will soon be able to aid you, Daniel Jackson. My injuries are not severe."

Looking carefully at Teal'c, Daniel felt he was slightly overestimating his own healing ability. Like Sam and Jack, the Jaffa's back had been severely beaten with a thin wooden rod. The cuts were oozing blood.

Sam groaned faintly, and Daniel said, "I'll take care of Sam and Jack. I need you as healed as possible. Let Junior do his stuff."

Teal'c nodded, moving out of the way, yet within reaching distance if he was needed. He sat straight, clasping his hands together, and closed his eyes. Within moments his breathing was deep and relaxed.

Daniel could find no sign of any injuries, besides the beatings, on either Jack or Sam. He carefully examined each of their backs, checking for broken ribs. As he pressed carefully, there was a knock on the door. Turning from where he was crouched between his semi-conscious teammates, Daniel watched in silence as a young girl, escorted by two samurai, entered the room. She carried a steaming bowl, and two bags. Placing the bowl on the floor, she removed three cloths from inside her robes. Without a word, she dipped a cloth in the warm water, squeezed it out, and gently bathed Jack's shoulder.

He jerked, and she stopped moving. Daniel held both hands out toward her, palms open. Carefully, he took the cloth from her fingers and began himself to wash the cuts on Jack's back. The girl nodded, and opened the smaller bag. A fresh, clean smell filled the room.

Taking several dried leaves, the girl crumbled them in her hands and sprinkled them over the wounds. Then she opened the second bag and pulled out several rolls of bandaging. Daniel bowed his head in comprehension, and the girl nodded. She stood and departed, Daniel watching as the samurai followed her out.

Daniel rubbed the cloth soothingly over Jack's back, thoroughly cleaning the cuts. He checked quickly on Sam, and found her blearily trying to make sense of her surroundings. "Sam?" he asked, scattering crushed fragments of the herb over Jack's abused skin.

"Dan - Daniel?" Blue eyes blinked under shaggy blond bangs.

"Hey," he soothed, pulling at a roll of bandages. "How are you feeling?"

"Urg."

Daniel contemplated the bandages, wondering how he was ever going to get them on Jack without his help. "That good?" he asked, smiling softly in her direction.

"Even better." The groan accompanied a small shift.

"Don't move. I'll be right there to help you," Daniel promised. He carefully turned and lifted Jack, removing his tattered shirt. Cautiously bracing his friend, he wrapped the bandages securely around the colonel's torso. Then, he managed to get Jack's jacket on him and return him to the ground.

One down. Two to go. "This will probably sting a little," Daniel warned her. The slightly indrawn breath when the wet cloth touched her back confirmed his suspicions. "Tell me what happened when they took you out of here?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"Well, first they took us through the training grounds. Many young men and women were practicing fighting. I was surprised by that, given the attitude towards women we saw in a similar Asian culture - the Mongolian descendants, I think . . . "

The mission had been one of their earliest. Daniel smiled. "In feudal Japan, there was less discrimination among the sexes than you might think. Noble women had to know how to defend their lives and honor in case of ambush or attack. Commoners were more proficient in using tools and staffs for defense, while the upper class made sure females knew the use of both sword and bow."

There was a small moment of silence before Sam continued. "We were brought before Lord Yasuo, in an outdoor area. There was a tall post in the ground. We were each sentenced to one hundred lashes. They tied us up in turn. Me first, in deference to my gender." Which explained why she was semi-conscious when Jack was completely out. "Then Teal'c, and the colonel last." It must have almost killed Jack to have to watch his teammates beaten in front of him, without him being able to do a thing about it. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, and Daniel stopped sprinkling the crushed leaves on her back.

"Does it hurt?" he asked cautiously.

"No - I can't feel a thing. What did you do?" Sam craned her neck around to try to see what he was doing, and Daniel hastily plunked the bag of leaves in front of her to stop the twisting motion.

"It's these. They were given to us, by a servant."

"This is incredible," Sam murmured.

"They might let us keep the remainder," said Daniel. "The leaves seem to be in abundance, and I think Janet would love to get her hands on them." The major nodded. "Uh, Sam?"

"Yes?" she turned to look at him.

"I need to cover these," Daniel said, gesturing to her back with the bandages. "D'you think you can help me?"

Sam nodded, and Daniel assisted her so that she was sitting facing the wall. Passing the roll of bandages back and forth between them, they managed to get her entire back covered without embarrassing anyone. Daniel helped her get into her jacket and then lie down.

She sighed. "When do you think they'll hand us over to the priest and priestess?"

Daniel frowned. "Not for a day or more, with any luck. I hope they might at least wait until Jack's -"

"Wha?" The startled grunt cut Daniel off.

"Sir?" asked Carter, gingerly moving over to him.

"Ow. Geez. What?" he asked bad-temperedly.

Daniel moved over to Teal'c, placing a hand on his shoulder. The Jaffa's eyes opened, and he blinked. "Teal'c, I'm going to wash your back and bandage it, give Junior a little help. That okay?"

"Indeed, Daniel Jackson. I shall return to kel'no'reem."

Daniel nodded, and Teal'c closed his eyes. Daniel cleaned out the cuts with gentle efficiency, having gained the necessary practice. As he dusted the crumbled leaves over the wounds, he listened to Sam and Jack's quiet interchange behind him. The conversation drifted into silence as he deftly tied off the bandaging and placed Teal'c's jacket on the ground beside him.

Contemplating his sleeping friends, Daniel gathered the materials given to him by the servant, and moved to the door. He placed the items on the ground and knocked on the inside of the entrance.

The door opened and a samurai appeared. "My thanks," said Daniel, extending the bowl. The man looked at him carefully, then took the bowl of bloody water, white cloths floating within it. Daniel also handed him the bags of bandages and medicine, before bowing slightly. The samurai cast his eyes over the three sleepers, and then turned away.

As he heard the bar drop into place on the opposite side of the door, Daniel moved to sit against the wall opposite the door. Rubbing his hand over his face, he lay down and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly and deeply, consciously relaxing his muscles and entering a light meditative state. Clearing his mind of all thought, he concentrated only on his breathing.

He had no idea how much time passed before the door to the cell was opened again. He opened his eyes to see the same servant girl, bearing a tray. He sat up slowly, noting through the barred window the sun's position at the apex of the sky. The girl placed the tray on the ground and left.

Teal'c was also awake, and Daniel asked him, "Do you feel any better, Teal'c?" as he scooted over to the tray.

"I am much strengthened."

"Good." Daniel contemplated the four bowls of rice, four pieces of bread, and four cups of water. He glanced to Sam and Jack and sighed, hating to wake them.

"Major Carter," said Teal'c, moving to her. "O'Neill."

The two stirred, and Daniel brought the tray over to where SG-1 was grouped.

"More rice," Jack muttered as Daniel handed him the bowl.

"At least it still tastes like chicken," Carter offered after her first bite.

A smile got away from Daniel as he leant against the wall and ate his own food. Within minutes, the tray held only empty dishes. Daniel took the tray and once again knocked at the door, handing it off to the guard with his thanks and a bow.

"Why are these people so big on the bowing?" asked Jack, obviously fortified by his meal and refusing to go back to sleep.

"Common courtesy," Daniel replied. "I might be overdoing it, but that's better than insulting them by not showing the proper respect."

Any further conversation was abruptly cut off as the door opened once again. Lord Yasuo appeared, as did several guards. "Come," he said brusquely. "It is time for you to be judged."

Helping one another to their feet, SG-1 left the hut as they had arrived - surrounded by samurai and sharp-edged steel.

- - - - - -

The verdict is thus - overwhelming response for the long version of the fic. I am . . . about a third of the way through it at this point, and have developed a handy contingency plan. There is a chapter which is a convenient stopping point, should I fail to complete by my self-appointed deadline. I will post up until that chapter, if I can't finish, and then continue at a later date. But as of today, we are go for the launch of epic proportions!

I also want to thank everyone for their overwhelming response. This is truly the most vocally supportive fandom I have ever entered. Also, I truly appreciate the kind wishes I received from so many of you for luck in the fall. Once again, gratias!


	6. Chapter 6

Daniel stood close to Sam, ready to help her if she should falter. Behind him, Teal'c was supporting Jack. They were in the center of a ring of samurai, and although none of the guards looked directly at them, Daniel could tell that their entire focus was centered upon the members of SG-1.

They were led along a gravel path surrounded by plants and flowers that appeared meticulously maintained. Their route was devoid of servants and animals, leading round the outside of the Shogun's grand home and to the street. Here, too, was a conspicuous absence of people. Where Daniel would have expected to find vendors hawking their wares, children running wild in the street, there was only a barren silence.

"Where is everyone?" Sam murmured, echoing his thoughts. Daniel could only shrug.

They were turned right, and escorted down a well-trodden road leading north, out of Hokkaido. The path led up the side of a steep hill, and once at the apex, Daniel found his mouth dropping in shock.

They were looking down upon a building that was twice the scale of Lord Yasuo's home, surpassing that mansion in both size and elegance. The edifice was built in the classic Japanese feudal style, and was an amazing feat of construction. Moreover, the most distinguishing facet of this temple was the abundance of color. More specifically, the overabundance of a particular shade.

Golden cloths and banners hung from every window. Saffron yellow standards hung between the wooden pillars that supported the roof of a porch that wrapped around the entire building. The columns themselves were swathed with long strips of gauze cloth echoing the shade of sunshine.

"The Temple of Amaterasu," breathed Daniel. "Sun goddess of Japan."

"Sun goddess," Jack mused. "Yea, I think I got that first try."

As they descended the hill, coming closer to the temple, it became apparent where all the villagers had gone. The noise of voices traveled lightly through the air, coloring the space with sound.

Upon entering the temple, the first thing that caught the attention was a larger-than-life gold statue of Amaterasu, her face serene, body decorated only with the fertility beads gifted to her by Izanagi. Behind this statue, covering the entire wall, was a massive silk painting depicting Amaterasu's flight into the cave, pursued by a raging Susano-wo. She emerged from the opposite end of the cave in glory, painting the world in light as the other gods rejoiced.

Villagers filled the left and right sides of the temple, whispering to one another as SG-1 approached the dais below the elevated golden statue. On this dais were two fat golden pillows. A man and a woman, dressed in yellow cloth and brown beads, sat upon each cushion. Daniel assumed that these were the priest and priestess of Amaterasu, but his attention was caught by the priest's face. As he was led closer, he realized with a shock that it was Senichi sitting in front of them, expression rigid.

The samurai halted in front of the priest and priestess. A motion from Senichi sent them spreading out, leaving SG-1 alone before the dais.

Daniel, glancing pointedly at the others, sank to his knees, sitting back on his heels. With assorted small noises of pain, Sam, Jack and Teal'c followed his lead. Daniel bowed his head reverently, before looking up to Senichi.

The priest raised a hand, and the quiet noises from the villagers died away. Staring serenely over the heads of his prisoners, Senichi began to speak.

"In the morning preceding this day, I guarded the Cave of Amaterasu, fulfilling my holy duty as her priest. I observed these ones approaching the sacred ground, and followed their progress with my eyes and feet. They approached the cave, and their intentions became clear. Two entered, defiling the sanctity of our goddess." Daniel could hear Jack give an exasperated huff next to him, and shot a glare at him which screamed, _Be quiet!_

Unmindful of the exchange between his prisoners, Senichi continued without a pause. "When captured, one of their number claimed the rights of Bushido, proving with blood that though these travelers come from the east, they are mortal, not tungri. We took them into custody, and treated them with honor. Later that day, three attempted to escape, breaking faith with us. They were punished accordingly by Lord Yasuo, who has graciously given them to the temple for sentencing, in accordance with the nature of their crime." Senichi turned dark eyes upon Daniel. "What have you to say in your defense?"

Daniel took a deep breath. "We are strangers in these lands. We have no knowledge of your laws. Had we known the cave we approached for shelter was sacred to the sun-goddess, never would we dared enter."

The priestess raised her hand, and Daniel's mouth snapped shut. "Priest," she intoned, her honeyed voice falling lightly through the silence. "Which two entered the cave?"

"Priestess," Senichi responded with equal gravity. "The dark one and the elder stepped into the shadow of Amaterasu's sanctuary. The two with sky-colored eyes remained outside."

The priestess looked carefully at the four members of SG-1, and Daniel had a sneaking suspicion that she was the one with whom final judgement rested.

"Where are you from?" she asked, staring at them.

"From beyond the great stone circle, the Chappa'ai, to the south and east of Hokkaido," Daniel responded carefully.

The priestess inclined her head slightly, and seemed to ponder some fact. It was some time before she spoke again. "The woman and man whose eyes are the color of Amaterasu's holy plains are favored by the goddess. They did not desecrate her haven. These two may go free without punishment."

Daniel held his breath as the priestess turned her harsh gaze upon Jack and Teal'c. "Strangers though they may be, ignorance of holy writ cannot excuse the crime of the others. It is not for us to determine their punishment. Only in Yomi can they be rightly judged."

Jack relaxed slightly, but Daniel tensed. Yomi was the Japanese underworld - Teal'c and Jack had just been handed a death sentence.

On hearing this, Daniel stood slowly, and took one step forward, bowing deeply. "Priestess," he beseeched. " Under the code of Bushido, I claim the lives of my companions, as is my right."

The priestess looked at him, then glanced at her companion. Senichi nodded once, and then spoke. "These ones not only broke faith with us, but cast off all right to your guardianship when they attempted to escape," he returned. "They are no longer safeguarded under your protection."

"Nevertheless, our lives are indebted to one another many times over," Daniel returned, trying to leash his temper and fear. "We are tied to one another. My protection is theirs no matter their actions. I demand that my rights be honored!"

"Daniel, what are you _doing_?" hissed Jack between his teeth.

At this whispering broke out among the villagers. Senichi raised a hand, and the outburst of noise slowly subsided. When full silence reigned, he looked down upon Daniel with interest. "One cannot always chose the companions of one's heart," he murmured slowly.

"Yet one is honor-bound to protect them," Daniel replied, eyeing Senichi carefully. The priest seemed to come to a decision, yet first he glanced at the woman seated beside him. She looked from him to Daniel, and then nodded.

Senichi then asked Daniel a question. "You would fight for their souls?"

"I would shed blood for their lives," he returned emphatically. Teal'c jerked at this, and Sam, not liking the turn of events, turned her worried gaze to Daniel's back. He ignored them.

"Very well," Senichi answered. "Bushido demands that honor be avenged. As chosen of Amaterasu, I will stand as the judge in this matter. Should you prevail, your companion's lives will be entrusted to you, and you will be bound to punish their offense. If you do not, then these ones will be sent to Yomi for judgement."

Daniel bowed in agreement.

Senichi lifted a hand, and the samurai once again took up positions around SG-1, and led them out of the building. They circled around the outside, and entered through another door. The samurai left the four teammates in a small room off the hallway they entered.

Immediately Jack turned to Daniel. "What did you do in there?"

Daniel sighed. "They wanted to send you and Teal'c to Yomi for judgement-"

"Yea, I got that. What's so bad about that? So they pack us off to another village, and you two head back to the Stargate for reinforcements."

"Yomi isn't a village, Jack," Daniel returned. "It's the Japanese version of the afterlife. That was a death sentence they laid on you back there."

"Ah." Jack took a deep breath. "What, exactly, is going to happen now, then?"

"Daniel Jackson must fight Senichi for our lives, O'Neill," stated Teal'c. "According to the customs of these people, if he wins, we will be freed."

"Daniel, didn't you say that these samurai have probably been training since childhood?" asked Sam, worry evident.

Daniel nodded.

"Ah, jeez, Daniel!" Jack cried. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Very probably," Daniel replied, removing his jacket.

The door opened without preamble and a samurai entered. "Come," he said simply, and he turned, striding out the door. Daniel, Sam, Teal'c and Jack followed, more guards falling in around them as they left the room.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

About the delay . . . my internet service provider - didn't. grins sheepishly Hope you enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

When they once again entered the main room of the temple, it had been cleared of all villagers. A large straw rug had been dragged in and unrolled across the floor. Daniel's eyes fell upon Senichi, who was standing barefoot and shirtless on the mat before the dais.

The archaeologist approached the mat, shucking his jacket and pulling off his shirt. He toed off his shoes and pulled off his socks, bowing once to the goddess before stepping on to the mat. One of the samurai approached him with a sword, and Daniel grasped the hilt of the katana, lifting it slowly. The blade was much sharper than his own, and it had clearly been well cared-for. It was also slightly lighter than the blade he practiced with. The katana he owned on Earth had been weighted to help him build muscle.

Sam, Jack and Teal'c were led by the guards to one side of the room, where they would be kept under watch for the duration of the fight.

Senichi turned to Daniel, and called in a low voice which nevertheless carried through the room, "I give you time to prepare yourself."

Daniel bowed, and moved to the far side of the room, out of sight of his friends and the guards. There, he carefully stretched out his muscles. Then, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he began to work through the first kata, slowly and efficiently. As he fell into the rhythm of the movement, he felt his anxiety slipping away, his focus centering only on himself and his weapon, the feel of the rippled blue steel in his hands. He sped up through the second kata, and then stopped.

Taking a breath, he opened his eyes and breathed deeply, slowing his heart. Moving out from behind the pillar, he focused on Senichi, catching the other man's eye. The two men moved to the middle of the mat, and stood side by side in front of the priestess. As one, they bowed to her, and to the golden statue. Turning, they bowed to each other.

They moved apart, backing away, and each assumed a particular ready stance. Daniel stood confidently; feet securely planted and weapon at the ready.

The priestess shouted, sharp and short. "_Hai!"_

Senichi immediately lunged forward, and Daniel turned out of the way, flicking his blade out to catch the priest's side-cut, aimed for his abdomen. He pulled away and swiftly attacked, his slashing movement deflected slightly by Senichi with a skilled motion.

They moved back and forth across the mat, exchanging cuts and slashes, deflections and parries in a dizzying blur of honed steel.

He jumped back from a trap, but not quickly enough. Senichi had set up a clever attack, disguised within small motions of the blade. He felt a sharp sting across his abdomen, and knew that a thin line had been cut in his skin. The priest drew first blood.

Daniel felt his focus narrow. His world consisted of nothing. The only noise was that of the air within his lungs. The only thing he saw was his opponent. All he could feel was his body, responding effortlessly to the demands of the fight.

Back and forth, forth and back. He pushed forward relentlessly, searching for an opening. Cut, cut, cut, feint - there it was! Daniel thrust the tip of his blade forward, even as Senichi angled out of the way. They were both bleeding now.

Disengaging, feeling the breath whooshing in and out of his lungs, Daniel quickly moved back. He and Senichi each circled warily, regaining their breath for a moment. Daniel was the first to recover, and the archaeologist jumped forward in a complex attack, his mind fixed upon the movements of Senichi's blade.

Without a conscious thought or decision, Daniel made a sacrifice move. Even as he felt Senichi's blade bite deeply into his upper left arm, he closed with the priest and twisted his blade up and out.

Senichi's bloodstained weapon flew from his hand to embed deeply into one of the interior wooden columns. Daniel's blade was a mere inch from his throat.

The fight was not yet over. Daniel gazed deeply into Senichi's face, and the priest nodded slightly. In one swift, strong move, Daniel slashed his blade, severing the priest's head from his body.

He jumped back as Senichi's corpse dropped to the ground, feeling the warmth of blood on his face and chest. Swallowing down bile, Daniel moved to the priestess and sank to his knees in front of her, bowing his head. He placed the blood-spattered katana at the foot of the dais.

Sound returned to him, yet the only noise in the shocked silence was his own harsh panting. Despite the distortion of time he had felt, the fight had not lasted long. Daniel closed his eyes, waiting for the priestess' pronouncement.

After several moments, her voice carried through the still air. "You walk the path of Bushido, and in the name of honor, have fought and bled for the right to the lives of your companions. In this you have prevailed, and I entrust their care to you."

Daniel looked up, then stood shakily and bowed. A samurai approached him, holding Senichi's weapon; still smeared crimson with the archaeologist's own blood. The man knelt, extending the sword over his head to Daniel on open palms. Daniel respectfully picked up the weapon, and bowed once more to the priestess.

Then he turned to his friends, walking over to where they were sitting. The guards bowed to him, and departed.

Daniel looked at the three sitting before him. Sam's amazement was palpable, concern for him shining out of her eyes. Teal'c, as ever, was inscrutable, but Daniel thought he could detect a hint of approval in the Jaffa's stoic visage. Jack . . . . Jack's incredulous look of open-mouthed astonishment might have been hilarious if Daniel hadn't been dizzily wondering if his risky move had severed an artery.

He took a deep breath, then another, calming his racing heart. "Daniel Jackson?" inquired Teal'c carefully.

Daniel nodded. "I'm okay," he croaked, slumping to his butt. The sword dropped from nerveless fingers as he put his head between his knees, trying his hardest not to throw up.

Someone - Sam, probably, was rubbing his back comfortingly. Daniel heard the noise of a guard approaching, Jack snapping at him, and then there was a sharp sting in his arm. Daniel jerked away, and then heard Teal'c murmur reassuringly, "We are simply dressing your wound, Daniel Jackson."

He nodded against his knees, feeling a bandage being tightly wound against the deep cut.

"Daniel, are you hurt anywhere else?"

Jack. Jack wanted to know if he was cut anywhere. Daniel raised his head and moved back to brace himself against the wall. His teammates were in a half-circle around him, and it appeared that all their belongings had been returned to them. An open first-aid kit sat on the ground between Sam and Teal'c. There was also a bowl of water and a cloth.

Daniel reached for the bowl, ignoring all else. Squeezing the cloth, he wiped his face, grimacing at the ruby stains that appeared on the white material. Dunking the fabric once more in the water, he mopped off his torso.

Clean of Senichi's blood, the only other wound revealed was the thin cut just above his beltline, which Sam dabbed with antiseptic. Daniel hissed out a breath at the stinging, and picked up his shirt. The cut was shallow enough to leave open, but without knowledge of the bacterial toxins of P5Y-362, Sam insisted on bandaging it.

"We're free to go?" Jack asked, the first thing he'd been able to say since Daniel began to fight. The archaeologist nodded. "Then let's get the hell out of Dodge before something _else_ happens."

Daniel pulled on his shoes, socks, shirt and jacket as the rest of SG-1 painstakingly pulled on their vests.

Arming themselves, they stood looking sidelong at their packs, before Jack briskly picked his up and said, "What're we waiting for? Let's blow this popsicle stand!" They helped one another gently settle the packs onto their abused backs, and Daniel picked up Senichi's sword.

"What do you need that for?" asked Sam, eyeing it warily.

Daniel said lowly, "Everyone who sees it will know the outcome of the judgement, and won't try to stop us."

Jack nodded. "Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free Card. Let's go, campers!"

They proceeded slowly out of the temple, but were halted by a youth before they could leave the sacred precinct.

He bowed to Daniel, who inclined his head. "I am Kiyoshi," he said quietly. He was no more than fourteen. "The Lady Nozomi, Priestess of Amaterasu, has directed me to lead you back to Izanagi's Eye."

Daniel blinked.

"Say what?" asked Jack.

The boy looked confused. "You told the priestess that you were from south and east of here, from the great stone circle. You called it a - "

"Chappa'ai," Daniel supplied tiredly.

"Yes," the boy nodded. "It is known to our people as Izanagi's Eye. Do you not wish to return?"

"Yes, we do," Daniel replied, before Jack could come out with a snide comment. "We would be most grateful for your guidance."

The boy nodded, and then turned and began to walk, clearly expecting SG-1 to follow.

"Two days on this planet, and we've already gotten into and out of a death sentence," Jack mused. "We might even make it back on time. That's gotta be some kind of record."

"Indeed," Teal'c returned. "Although I do believe Sergeant Siler will be displeased. He placed a substantial amount of money on the belief that this mission would extend to a week's time."

Jack chortled, and Sam grinned. The running pool hadn't put any faith in the recent trend of milk-run missions that SG-1 had pulled. Many of those who bet on some of the more outrageous occurrences insisted that this streak of monotony was a fluke, and couldn't last long. Knowing SG-1, Daniel thought wryly, they were right. Kiyoshi glanced back at the bantering comrades, and Daniel saw a look of bemused puzzlement cross over the boy's features. He snorted lightly; SG-1 got that reaction a lot.

The relieved banter continued for several miles, until the weight of the packs pressing on battered flesh caused the discomfort to escalate. Silence, broken only by the occasional pained grunt, prevailed.

It was mid-afternoon when they set out, and by nightfall they had covered nearly seven miles. When Daniel asked Kiyoshi the distance to the 'gate, he was assured that they would not travel as far as they had en route to Hokkaido. There had been as near as Daniel could figure it, almost a twelve-mile detour from the Cave of Amaterasu that would be cut out of this journey. The village of Hokkaido itself was roughly twenty-three miles from the 'gate.

Jack insisted on maintaining their pace, once Kiyoshi assured them that there were no nocturnal predators that would pose a threat to them should they neglect to camp in a secure area with a fire.

The miles passed slowly, each member of SG-1 locked into his or her own thoughts. By the time dawn pinked the horizon, they were all dragging, their movements sluggish with pain and exhaustion, coupled with a slight lack of food and water.

Seeing Teal'c chewing, Daniel belatedly remembered his own stash of power bars, and pulled one out. Seeing the curiosity on Kiyoshi's face, he offered the boy a bite. The youth gobbled it down in delight, sweet foods being a rare commodity for most people, available only to the wealthy.

Trying not to think about the distance they still had to go, Daniel blanked his mind, relying on instinct to alert him if anything was amiss. The sun was high in the sky when they sighted the 'gate, and Daniel smiled in relief.

"Kiyoshi," he called, attracting the boy's attention from where he was eagerly questioning Teal'c. With the rising of the sun the boy's wariness had melted away, and he was tenaciously questioning SG-1 about everything. Despite their ragged state, the team indulged him, Jack even ruffling his hair before kindly telling him to "get lost".

The youth trotted over to him, and bowed. Daniel sighed. He hadn't been able to get the boy to drop the formality with him, though Kiyoshi seemed comfortable with the other members of the team. "Thank you for leading us to Izanagi's Eye," he said softly. "From here, our journey will be far. You may return to your village and assure Lady Nozomi that we have returned to our lands."

The boy nodded, calling a farewell to Teal'c, who smiled and inclined his head. Without looking back, Kiyoshi trotted off the way they had come, and Daniel heaved a sigh. One less problem to worry about.

Feeling a tension headache rising as he contemplated the upcoming debriefing, Daniel rubbed his temple and followed the rest of the team, who were already down on the plain and making their way toward the Stargate.

Less than an hour later they had reached the DHD, and as he dialed home Daniel felt apprehension weighing him down. Placing his hand over the activation crystal, he moved punched in the IDC and waited until all his team had preceded him through the gate. Taking one last look around, Daniel straightened his shoulders and stepped through the wormhole.

- - - - - - - - - - -

(grins mischievously) I honestly had no idea that the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger of sorts - no, really, I didn't! I hope you enjoyed the fight - it was really hard to get through, surprisingly. Thanks and candy to all who reviewed!


	8. Chapter 8

Daniel's feet hit the ramp on Earth with a clatter, and the first thing he saw was Janet Frasier relaxing as all of SG-1 appeared, alive and superficially whole. "Stand down," came Hammond's voice from the control room. The wormhole disengaged, SF's lowering their weapons.

All of SG-1 moved to the end of the ramp, and shrugged off their packs with grimaces and small noises of discomfort. "Infirmary, now," said Janet sternly, noting their pained expressions.

Her gaze drifted to Daniel, and he followed her eyes to the sword in his hand, which was still tinged red with blood. Daniel, however, ignored the widening of her eyes, and followed the rest of the team as Janet led them to the infirmary.

Sitting on "his" bed, he could hear the soft murmur of voices as Janet questioned his teammates about the nature of their injuries. When she stepped around the curtain to check on him, he was waiting for her.

The katana was lying on the seat of a chair, his jacket and shirt draped over it. Janet pulled off the bandages, and looked carefully at the cuts. "This is going to need stitches," she told him, indicating his arm. He nodded, and looked away as she sewed up the deep cut. Inspecting the slice on his belly, she announced that it was harmless before hooking him up to an IV drip for fluids and antibiotics, just in case.

Uncharacteristically, Daniel spent the next two hours sleeping as the IV's ran their course. When Janet woke him, she told him that the rest of SG-1 were waiting in the briefing room, and handed him clean clothes to change into. He told Janet that he would be back for the katana, and hurriedly dressed.

When he arrived in the briefing room, it was to find Sam, Jack and Teal'c all on one side of the table, facing him. Daniel sat down opposite them, an empty chair on either side, acknowledging that the battle lines had been drawn.

Hammond's eyes narrowed at the seating arrangements, but Daniel was too weary - in body and soul - to care.

"All right," Hammond began, knowing that the next hour or so was likely to be tense, judging from the expressions - or lack thereof - on the faces of SG-1. "Let's begin. What happened when you arrived on the planet, Colonel?"

"Well, for once it appeared to be exactly the same as the MALP images, General," Jack began. "The land around the Stargate was a plains, with lots of rolling hills and a bit of scrub. Daniel dialed back and sent the MALP through, and we started off once the Stargate disengaged. The trek to the caves was four miles, and there was no apparent threat so we were on lighter guard. Carter would stop every so often to scoop some dirt.

"It was four miles out to the cave where the UAV picked up traces of naquahda. When we got there, Teal'c and I took point, checking out the cave before Carter and Daniel entered. The inside of the rock walls were - they glowed in the sunlight."

"Teal'c?" Hammond asked.

"There were thick veins of gold in the walls of the cave," the Jaffa returned. "The floor, and most of the rock surface, was covered in gold dust. It did not appear to have been mined at all."

"Interesting," the general murmured. "Continue, Colonel."

"I radioed to Carter that the inside was secure, but apparently there was something blocking the signal, so Teal'c and I went back to the cave mouth to get her attention. When we got there, the first thing I see is some Japanese-samurai type guys have surrounded the entrance to the cave. Carter was prepped to fight, but Daniel was standing within two feet of their leader, whose sword was at his throat," Jack's voice reverberated anger and something that might have been contempt.

"Dr. Jackson?" asked Hammond, cutting off his angry 2IC's tirade.

"About a mile from the Stargate I thought I saw the sunlight reflecting off something metallic in the distance," Daniel said. "I called Ja - the Colonel's attention to it, but no one else on the team saw anything. Shortly after this, I got the intense feeling that we were being watched. At this point I was seriously doubting the assumption that the planet was inhabited. When we reached the cave, Jack and Teal'c went inside. A few minutes after they disappeared, a man came out of the brush. He was followed by a band of eleven others. They all appeared Asian, and were dressed in traditional clothing from the feudal era in Japan. They were also armed."

Daniel took a deep breath. This is where it got tricky. "Sam tried to radio the Colonel for help, but the signal was blocked. Based on my knowledge of the samurai culture, I made the decision to approach their leader and try to avoid conflict." Jack snorted, and Daniel paled. Hammond shot a glare his way, and the colonel subsided. "He thought we were demons, and accused us of trespassing in a cave sacred to the Japanese sun goddess, Amaterasu. Apparently, after the Goa'uld Amaterasu transplanted these people to P5Y-362, they found the gold in the cave and assumed that it was a cave that figures importantly in the legend of Amaterasu. It was sacred ground.

"Jack and Teal'c emerged from the cave, and there was nothing I could do to keep them from slaughtering us immediately except - "

"He knelt, Sir," Sam cut in. "He got down on his knees in front of that man with a sword at his throat and -"

"It was the only thing I could do," Daniel interjected. "Japanese samurai took their honor very seriously, as did these people. By putting myself at his mercy, and acknowledging that he had beaten me, I kept him from having to physically prove his dominance."

"We could have taken them, Sir," said Jack stubbornly. "Up until Daniel got on the ground, we had our weapons. Even though they outnumbered us, we would have been able to take them out."

"No you wouldn't," Daniel said tiredly. "They were in too close a range, Jack. Sure, you might have killed half of them, but while you were wondering where the rest were, they'd have taken your gun, and your hands with it."

There was a moment of silence and Daniel seized it in order to continue. "I managed to convince the leader, Senichi, that we were not demons, but he and his band were determined that we face sentencing for trespassing on holy land. I told him that I followed his honor code, which ensured that we would receive good treatment at their hands."

"Then why has Dr. Frasier reported that Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Teal'c have been severely beaten?" the General asked.

"We tried to escape," Jack stated. "Daniel managed to see to it that even though they took our packs and weapons, we weren't tied up. A few miles from the Stargate, I faked a fall. Sam, Teal'c and I fought these samurai, but Daniel froze. They subdued us, pretty quickly. My goal was to get one of our weapons, but I didn't manage it before three of them jumped on me."

"Dr. Jackson?" Hammond inquired again.

"Any escape attempt at this point was pure folly," Daniel stated flatly. "All they succeeded in doing was proving to the samurai that my word regarding their conduct was worthless. I didn't try to fight because it couldn't have ended any other way. If I'd joined them, they would have killed us all, immediately, and not waited to take us to Hokkaido for judgement."

"Hokkaido?"

"That's the name of their village, sir," Carter responded. "It's about twenty-three, twenty-four miles from the 'gate."

"Just out of the UAV search quadrant," Hammond murmured.

"Ain't it always the way," Jack commented sourly.

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Major Carter?"

Sam continued. "I was knocked unconsious, sir. But I assume it was at this point where we were tied and gagged." The nods of her teammates corresponded with her narrative. "I have to assume that we traveled far. I didn't come to until we had stopped for the night. The samurai built a fire, and we were put in the center of camp, constantly guarded. The leader came over to talk to Daniel a bit, and he eventually gave him some food. Daniel was allowed to ungag us, and he fed us."

"Dr. Jackson was not tied?" asked Hammond. Upon receiving an answer in the negative, he said, "Continue, Major."

"We took watches, despite the guards, and the next morning the gags were replaced. We were brought to Hokkaido, which was about two more hours double-time, and presented to Lord Yasuo. He was apparently the ruler of the territory we were in. Then we were locked up. After a short period of time, the Colonel, Teal'c and I were brought outside. We were tied to a post and whipped, for trying to escape."

"For breaking your word," Daniel quietly corrected.

"We never promised them anything," Jack retorted tightly.

"I did." The response was quiet. "And I told you not to try."

"I - "

"Major?" asked Hammond, interrupting what promised to be an explosive argument.

"Sir." Carter responded. "After they were done, they brought us back to the hut. When I woke, Daniel was tending the Colonel. Apparently, despite the fact that they beat us, they gave him medical supplies. There was an interesting herb that acted like a painkiller on contact, and Janet has also reported that the cuts on each of us are free of bacteria, so it might also be used for cleaning out microorganisms."

"That could prove useful," the General commented. "Go on."

"Shortly after this they brought us food. When we were done eating, guards entered the hut and escorted us out of the Lord's compound and over a hill to the north of the village. When we reached the top, we were able to look down on a small valley, which had a massive building near the center. It was apparently a temple to the Goa'uld Amaterasu."

"Did you encounter any Goa'uld?" Hammond asked, voice tense.

"Amaterasu was defeated by the System Lord Susano-wo," Teal'c said smoothly. "Her defeat is legend among the System Lords. Susano-wo met his end at the hands of Seth, in ages past."

"Good," said Hammond. "Colonel O'Neill?" Daniel mentally strapped steel to his backbone, bracing himself for the part of the debriefing he dreaded most.

"We were brought into the temple to the priest and priestess of Ama-wassername, and they decided that Daniel and Carter were pretty much okay, because they didn't go into the cave. They were also pretty hooked by blue eyes. Teal'c and I were going to be sent to Yogi, or something, for judgement."

Hammond looked at the archaeologist, who explained. "Yomi. The Priestess was the one who was making the decisions. Apparently Senichi, the leader of the samurai who captured us, was also the priest of Amaterasu. Yomi is the Japanese underworld. Essentially, Jack and Teal'c were condemned to death, and the priest and priestess would let the gods deal with them for their transgression."

The general nodded. "Well, as you're all here, I'm going to assume that you managed to talk them out of their decision, Dr. Jackson."

"Not . . . exactly," said Daniel, staring at the table. The silence was oppressive.

"Daniel offered to fight them," said Jack bluntly.

"Dr. Jackson?" Hammond was politely disbelieving.

Daniel sighed. "When we were first captured, I entered myself into their society by saying that I followed the Bushido, which is roughly their honor code. It's also translated as the Way of the Warrior." Daniel stared at the table to avoid seeing raised brows across from him. "At that time, I claimed the Colonel, Sam and Teal'c under my protection, which would be easier than trying to teach them about the touchy etiquette of the samurai on the fly, and risk them doing something wrong.

"I had to extend my protection to them again in front of the priest and priestess. They didn't want to believe me because the others had already broken faith in the matter of acquiescing to being 'prisoners' of Lord Yasuo. They tried to escape. The priest - Senichi - wanted to deny them any defense. I had to assert my right to protect them under the code of Bushido."

"He had to fight Senichi, sir," said Carter.

"You fought a fully-trained samurai, Dr. Jackson?" Hammond was clearly astonished.

"Kicked his ass," Jack stated bluntly. "Killed him."

Daniel flinched. "Dammit, Jack, I didn't have any choice!" he cried. "It was either that or -" He cut himself off abruptly.

"Or?" asked Hammond gently, concerned for the distraught linguist.

"_Seppuku_," Daniel answered bitterly. "I disarmed him, defeated him in the field of battle. He would have committed _Hara-kiri_ the instant we left the village." Interpreting the puzzled looks correctly, Daniel said shortly, "Ritualistic suicide. Self-disembowelment."

"Daniel Jackson gave the priest Senichi an honorable and painless death," said Teal'c.

"Well, Major?"

Jerking her gaze from an obviously upset Daniel, Carter continued. "They gave us our supplies and weapons, and a guide, and we left. We walked all the rest of that afternoon and night, and were at the Stargate roughly three hours after sunrise."

Hammond nodded, and after a short, tension-wracked silence, he said, "I'll expect your written reports by no later than 1800 tomorrow. You're on stand-down for the next two weeks."

"Sir?" asked Jack.

"Dr. Frasier assures me that you will be fully recovered in a week's time due to the local herb that was used," Hammond said. "The extension, however, is to give you time to chose a new member for SG-1."

"What?" came two surprised voices. Teal'c sat up straight.

"Yes," said Hammond quietly. "Dr. Jackson has handed me his resignation." Looks of disbelief turned to Daniel, who was quietly sitting in his chair. He met each of their shocked gazes in turn. "I'm going to retrieve the personnel files from my office. I expect you all to be here when I return." Turning, Hammond left the debriefing room, closing the door on the silence behind him.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I hope this chapter explains why Daniel had to kill Senichi. I got the sense that a few people were shocked by this, and I angst-ed over it for a while before I decided to commit to a particular course of action. Anywho, thanks so much for the support and continued interest! (psst - reviews make me happy! Happy authors write fast!)


	9. Chapter 9

"Just when did this happen?" Jack asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I gave Hammond my resignation after our last briefing," Daniel answered.

"So - you knew. You knew this was going to be your last mission, and you didn't even think to tell any of us?" Jack's voice was getting louder with anger. A tinge of hurt, panic, colored the words.

In contrast, Daniel's tone was just as soft as before. "Yes, Jack, I knew. Would it have made a difference?"

"I can't believe you did this without at least _talking_ to any of us," said Sam, uncharacteristically jumping in before the colonel could respond.

"Sam, we haven't - none of us - really talked in months."

"Is that what this is about?" asked Jack. "So we're not hanging out any more to reassure you of our friendship? Feeling lost and alone?" His voice took on a mocking ring that hit Daniel like a punch to the gut.

"No, Jack. _That_ is what this is all about." He gestured to the three of them, sitting on one side. "It's become obvious that you have no respect for me, or the work that I do." His voice was non-accusatory, dead. "My contribution to the team is continually derided. You don't listen to me any more, and I have to fight you harder than I have to fight the Goa'uld just to get my point across. This last mission is a perfect example. I'm done, Jack. You've won."

"This mission is a perfect example of why we still need you on the team," said Sam, hating the defeat in the linguist's tone.

"I concur," said Teal'c. "Without your skills and expertise, we would likely not have survived."

"How so?" Daniel asked Sam. He turned his gaze to Jack. "I told you that I thought I saw something a mile from the gate. I told you I suspected that the planet might be inhabited. Because it was just the civilian who saw something, and I didn't have anyone who was military to back me up, my concerns were completely dismissed. There was an opportunity, at that point, for us to leave the planet. In all probability, they would have let us go. But even after we were captured, after we had to deal and treat with the locals, you refused to listen to me. And it got you tied to a pole and beaten until you passed out," Daniel said dully. "I'm finished, Jack. You didn't need a civilian on your team - fine. I'm gone. I'm not going to fight you any longer."

"Dammit, Daniel, you can't _do_ this!" cried Jack. Unhappiness was clear in his tone, as was the confusion in his eyes.

For the first time, anger sparked in Daniel's eyes. He shoved the chair back violently and stood. "How dare you," he snapped, his tone low and dangerous in a way none of the others had ever heard it before. He was trembling with suppressed rage. "Christ, I don't know what happened, Jack. It started with the NID thing, and after that, the trust was just - gone. I tried, dammit, I tried to talk to all of you, but more and more things happened that put me on the opposite side of the fence. And you shut me out. I had no idea what the hell I had to do to get my friends back. After a while, I just wanted to get the team working again. But I just can't do it by myself anymore. And you have the temerity to tell me, after doing _nothing_ to try to save this team, that I - " Daniel snapped his mouth shut, turned on his heel, and left the debriefing room. Jack pushed the chair back and ran after Daniel, uncaring that Carter and Teal'c were right on his heels.

"Daniel. Daniel!" He caught up to the storming linguist, and grabbed his arm, pulling Daniel around. The next thing Jack knew, a fist was coming at his face. Special Ops training took over, but in the blink of an eye he was on his back on the ground, Daniel standing unruffled several feet away. Carter's face was shocked, and even Teal'c's expression reflected disbelief.

"Stay the hell away from me," Daniel said coldly, turning on his heel. Jack hauled himself to his feet, prepared to take off after the linguist as he disappeared down the hall, and was pulled up short by Hammond's voice.

"I take it you couldn't just lie back and rationally discuss why Dr. Jackson has felt himself an extraneous and worthless part of your team, could you?" Hammond's voice was dry, and somewhat bitter. "I wish you would have run after him like that months ago. Unfortunately, it's too late now." The General hefted a fat pile of folders, distributing a third to each member of SG-1. "I refuse to have anything to do with this. I want your decision in no later than two weeks' time."

Leaving the now three-man team shellshocked in the hallway, Hammond mirrored Dr. Jackson's actions, turning on his heel and closing the door to his office firmly behind him.

- - - - - - - - --- - - - -

(blushes) wow. I begged shamelessly for reviews, and got them! (blushes) Thanks so much everyone! Yesterday was filled with the angst of getting a new computer, and discovering that no matter how sexy the machine was, if it didn't work it was worth nothing. It was comforting to me to know that while I was stressing over OS's and the obvious lack of Microsoft Word, reviews were filling my box, and putting the tally over 100! (I'm kinda curious to see how high it gets before the end . . .)

Anywho, upon receiving 2 separate requests for an extra chapter with this update, added to the fact that I'm substantially ahead of where I thought I'd be, I'm happy to oblige! Pop a review in the slot and continue on to the next!


	10. Chapter 10

"Daniel?"

He'd known that she would be the first one to come and try to soothe things over. "Sam," he responded, not looking up from the stacks of books he was neatly piling in a box labeled _South America_.

"God - how long have you been at this?" Her voice sounded choked.

Glancing around his office, Daniel noted the shelves, bare of books in favor of many stacked boxes. Artifacts had been neatly categorized and labeled, notes piled with a disturbingly uncharacteristic attention to specific detail. "On and off for over a week," he responded.

Sam made a small noise in the back of her throat. The reason this seemed so out of the blue to his teammates had a lot to do with the fact that he had, in truth, been packing for about a month now, and no one had noticed.

"Why are you leaving the SGC?" Sam asked suddenly. "You don't have to leave, you could just transfer out of SG-1."

"Clean break," Daniel answered, shortly and absently. He picked up a book on Native American sign language, and put it to the side, vaguely wondering how it got in that pile.

The briefing had been only a few hours ago, yet Daniel had moved with the speed of fury. As he'd cooled off, he realized that he didn't regret what he'd told the other members of his team. He regretted _how_, but not _what_.

"I - I know you've been feeling shut out," Sam said. "I feel like part of it's my fault. I know I've never told you this, but after the Zatarc incident - the colonel and I - we thought we had feelings for each other. It's been putting a strain on the team, and we never should've -"

"I know, Sam," Daniel cut in quietly. "I've known for awhile."

"What?" she gasped, horrified.

"It's okay," he said, turning to her. "I figured it out for myself. I saw the way you two were acting - it wasn't something anyone else would have noticed. I heard a few rumors and there were people talking. I made a few guesses."

"Oh, God, Daniel, I'm so sorry," Sam said, and Daniel could see tears in her eyes. "I know we talk about everything, but I just couldn't -"

"Shh, it's really okay, Sam," said Daniel, moving forward. She grasped him in a hug and he held her for a moment, comforting. "You don't need to apologize," he said, looking at her.

She wiped at her eyes a bit, and the two of them took a step back, a new awkwardness between them. "I - are you - can I come by and see you sometimes?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head. "I'm leaving," he said gently. "I've been offered a position on a dig near Jerusalem."

"But - but what about - all your things, I mean, you're not moving out of the country. Are you?" Sam's face went a little pale at the thought.

"No," he said. "I'm giving up my apartment, putting my stuff in storage. General Hammond is going to make sure that it's placed in a secure location, where the NID can't get their hands on it. I know a few people who'll check on it every so often for me." It went without saying that none of these people were any of his teammates. Sam winced a little.

"Oh, all right then," she murmured, not quite sure what to say, certain that nothing was 'all right'. "I'll - I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Sure," Daniel replied, smiling at her a little. Sam smiled back, gently closing the door. The expression wiped off Daniel's face almost before the door shut, and he turned back to his boxes, his care of his books mechanical and automatic.

When the box could hold no more, he closed the flaps, taped it up, and wrote his name and the contact information for his apartment, and the dig site as well, just in case.

He was lifting the box when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he grunted, slowly lowering the container to the floor, beside the rest.

Teal'c entered, and stopped just on the threshold. "Daniel Jackson," he greeted.

"Teal'c," said Daniel, surveying the office. He glanced at the clock - 2242. Roughly half of his extensive library was packed, and he needed to head home to do the same to his apartment.

"I would entreat you to change your mind about leaving the SGC," Teal'c said abruptly.

Daniel turned to him, shaking his head. "No," he said simply. "It's become clear that it's past time for me to move on. I'm not doing the team any good, and for a long time now I haven't had a real reason to stay here."

"Is not the fight against the Goa'uld reason enough?" the Jaffa asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Not the way that we're fighting now. I can't - I won't have any part in the SGC. The way things are going - we aren't making any allies, or morally gaining any technology to use against the Goa'uld. We're just - chipping away at their forces in the galaxy." The archaeologist shrugged. "I have no place in warfare, Teal'c."

"On the contrary, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c stated. "I find myself most reassured knowing that you fight by my side."

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Teal'c. But much as I hate to say it, that doesn't negate any of the fundamental reasons for my leaving."

"Then there is nothing I can say which would alter your decision?"

Daniel shook his head.

Teal'c bowed. "Then I can do no other than to thank you for fighting at my side, and being as a brother to me."

Daniel nodded, pushing the tears away. "Thank you, Teal'c."

The Jaffa nodded. He turned and walked to the door, but stopped before leaving. "Daniel Jackson, might I be permitted to - 'stop by' your home at some time?"

Daniel smiled a little, but shook his head. "I'm going to be leaving the country," he answered.

"Where will you go?" The Jaffa was not pleased.

"I'm going to an archaeological dig near Jerusalem. It's the capital city of Israel, a country located in the Middle East. The city itself is a holy pilgrimage for many people of the Jewish, Islam and Christian faiths."

"Daniel Jackson, is not this area filled with unrest?" asked Teal'c warily, clearly unhappy with the idea of Daniel travelling into danger where he could not follow.

"The country of Israel itself is victim to many terror attacks by people from the neighboring country of Palestine, and the sentiment is returned," Daniel answered wryly. "The city itself has been known to be a site of violence, simply because zealots - people who are dedicated to their faith to the point of fanaticism - see it as an easy target. But I'm not going to be in Jerusalem itself. The dig site is almost a two-hour drive from the city, on the shores of the Dead Sea. I'm going to be pretty far removed from any violence that might take place."

"I see." Teal'c was clearly not reassured by this information, yet he said nothing more on the subject. "I wish you a pleasant evening, Daniel Jackson."

"Good night, Teal'c," the scientist murmured. He waited several minutes before gathering his coat, keys and the box of his personal belongings. He decided to go to the locker room, and clean out his area. That way, he might be able to avoid Hurricane Jack, whose coming had been forewarned by both Sam and Teal'c's arrivals in his office.

A mere half-hour later, he signed out, and loaded his things into his car. Driving home from the Mountain, his thoughts were centered on the dig he was going to, rather than the painful thought of all he was leaving behind.

He arrived at his apartment, locking the door behind him, and placed the box on a stack of others in by the couch. He'd gone through his home meticulously, and his own personal artifacts were carefully packed, as were his books. Ever since he'd been accepted as a volunteer at the Ein Gedi dig, he'd been packing away non-essential items. Now that the decision was finalized, he could begin packing away his clothes, and the other items necessary for everyday living.

Soul-weary at the though of once more picking up and moving, he made himself a cup of coffee and changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and t-shirt. Curling up on the couch, he let his mind wander over the past few years. They had experienced amazing triumphs, starting with opening the 'gate. They had saved the world, and the idea of that was still enormous enough, thrilling enough, to make him smile. They'd had incredible victories, against impossible odds.

But their failures had also been spectacular. Sha'uri's kidnapping, and more recent events stood out clearly. His wife's death. The tension in the team. The mounting violence, and the emotional toll of 'successful' endeavors - the NID stint, Euronda, Edora, the replicators - on, and on, and on.

Daniel closed his eyes, and felt wetness on his face. He ignored it, staring sightlessly at his empty fireplace.

Something pounded at the door, and Daniel jumped in shock, nearly spilling his now-cold coffee. Putting the mug on the floor, he padded over to the door, swiping ineffectually at his cheeks.

He sighed, peering through the peephole. A very annoyed Jack had tracked him to his doorstep, it would seem. He found himself ineffectually wishing that Jack had done so months ago, when he'd first felt he had to pull away - when it might have made a difference.

"Jack," Daniel sighed, pulling the door open.

The other man's eyes narrowed at this sight of his tear-tracked face, but he stalked past, grumbling, "I tried the key, but I must've switched it with something and I couldn't get in -" he trailed off at the sight of the barren room, and the many stacks of boxes.

"There was a series of burglaries round the building three months ago," Daniel replied. "I had the locks changed."

"You're dead serious about this, aren't you?" Jack brusquely demanded, striding around the empty room.

Daniel shut the door. "Very serious."

"Sam told me you were leaving the county. Teal'c said you were going to the Middle East."

"Ein Gedi," Daniel confirmed. "It's on the shores of the Dead Sea. There's an excavation of a Roman-Byzantine village -" he cut off as Jack waved a hand dismissively.

Daniel sighed. Even though Jack had come to his house to try to talk him out of it, nothing had really changed. And that was exactly why he was leaving. "Go home, Jack," he said wearily.

"Not until you agree to come back to the SGC, to SG-1," Jack said firmly.

"Then you might want to secure the contract to this place before someone else does." The response was flat. "I'm leaving in twelve days, and all my things will go into storage the day after."

"Why?" Jack demanded. "You can't tell me that this In Jetty place holds a candle to the Stargate."

"Ein Gedi," Daniel corrected. "And that's not the point."

"Then what is?" Jack was clearly exasperated. "You live to go through that 'gate!"

"No," Daniel said. "I used to - because that was the only way to find Sha'uri. But she's dead now, Jack. There's no archaeology in the SGC, and more fighting than digging. And the team - it's _off_, Jack, everything's gone wrong, and there's nothing I can do any more to try to fix it. I thought we had a friendship - but apparently, I made a mistake."

Jack reared back. "You don't - you _can't_ still be upset about the NID thing?" His voice was incredulous.

"No, Jack, it was never about the NID thing. It was about you. About why suddenly you couldn't tease without insulting. Why you couldn't listen, didn't hear what I was trying to tell you. Why when I tried to reach out, find out what was wrong, you shoved me away. " Jack opened his mouth, but Daniel kept going. "It was never about the NID thing, Jack, but I think that was the beginning. And after a certain point, neither one of us did anything to try to stop it."

Daniel moved to the couch and sat, feeling like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

"But we still need you, Daniel," Jack said. "Whatever's wrong, we can fix it!" The words closely mirrored what he had said during the incident with the Light, when Daniel had been out on the balcony, ready to jump. But this time, the words weren't a lifeline strong enough to drag him back to SG-1.

"No, I don't think we can," Daniel sighed. "People have been telling me for a long time that a civilian has no place on a first-contact unit. I just haven't believed them until now."

"Daniel," said Jack. " 'The single most important endeavor in human history' - that's what you called the SGC. How can you just walk away from it?"

"I can, because I must," Daniel said firmly. He refused to look at Jack, unwilling to let him see the tears rising in his eyes.

"Daniel . . . "

And that was the end of the conversation. As irresistible force met immovable object, the immovable object gave way. Jack left. Daniel found tears pouring down his face before the door slammed shut. The Jack he'd been friends with would never have given up on him so easily - would have forced his way to the very gates of hell to drag him back. Instead, Jack had played the good C.O., coming to try to patch up his team with a bit of duct tape and chewing gum. Daniel could not help but feel, deep in his heart, that Jack's refusal to fight for him just masked a relief that he was finally gone.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

And here it is. Much angst in the future!


	11. Chapter 11

Jack was furious, enraged, incensed, fuming, and quite seriously pissed off. He couldn't believe it. Daniel was leaving - giving up. Not only cutting loose from SG-1,but leaving the SGC and even America choking in the dust he kicked up while dashing away.

He was going to the Middle East, for Chrissake. A fission of fear ran through Jack at the very thought. Iraq was not far from his mind, dragged up by the mere hint of Daniel venturing into such dangerous territory.

He was pacing his office, the one place he was able to go where no one would think to look for him. He kicked out at the desk, ignoring the pain in his foot as he dented the cheap grey metal.

Daniel just couldn't leave - he just - he couldn't! The idea was wrong on so many levels that Jack couldn't come to terms with it. After talking with Daniel last night, he'd wanted to grab the archaeologist and shake him, crush Daniel to him and refuse to let him leave. But something in Daniel's posture was closed off, shuttered away. He gave off such strong don't-touch vibes that Jack felt them clear across the room, and they roused every protective instinct he had.

But this was different than the emotional pain he'd seen in Daniel before. The man had changed - and although the self-hugs and a ducked head still reflected his inner need for security, Jack was scared stiff by this emotionless detachment. It reminded him eerily of himself after Charlie's death.

Daniel's careful observance of his own space, and others', was nothing new. But now, he gave off the sense that any outside interference would be tolerated, rather than welcomed, and ignored rather than accepted. Jack quite frankly didn't know what to do. He was afraid to get too close to Daniel, afraid to push at this new barrier. He had the disturbing feeling that Daniel's new defense mechanism held more pain at bay than Daniel knew what to do with. He didn't want to shove at the archaeologist, only to be forced to watch Daniel shatter in front of his eyes.

And Jack admitted to himself, in the relative privacy of his own office, that the distance between them that would have enabled him to push was his fault. He'd gone for the jugular with the whole ugly scene in his living room, and although Daniel had apparently gotten over it, Jack had hated the vulnerability he'd exploited.

Maybe he could blame his subconscious for wanting to harden Daniel to that, but it wasn't the entire reason he'd pulled away from the younger man. With the Zatarc episode, Jack had realized that he cared more for his team than he should - most especially, he was very close to Daniel. This was a massive vulnerability that had been exploited time and time again. But also, when it was revealed that he cared more about Carter than he should, he'd realized how much deeper his feelings ran for Daniel.

It came as no surprise that Carter also cared about him - the team had weathered storms that would have broken anyone else. But when Jack realized the true extent of the love he had for the members of his team, he was shocked, and more than a little terrified. How could he be effective as a commander, if he couldn't order them to do what was necessary for fear of any of them getting hurt? How could he make the tough decisions, the ones everyone trusted him to make, if he was too emotionally invested in the members of his team?

Teal'c, he could deal with. The stoic Jaffa was reliable and friendly, and each would cheerfully lay his life on the line for the other. They had connected from the very beginning, and the friendship between them had deepened steadily ever since.

Carter was a little more difficult, given her gender, and the "feelings" thing that was between them. But nothing could ever happen, and Jack knew that he didn't really want anything to. Carter's career was more important than that, and in the back of his mind niggled the small thought that in every alternate reality where it had hit the fan, he and Carter were apparently together. The trend was not comforting. So when it came down to it, he treated Carter almost the same way he treated Teal'c - they were his 'kids'.

Daniel - was an entirely different story. The intensity of their friendship scared him, simply because it was beyond the scale of anything he had ever experienced in his life. He would, no question, die for Carter and Teal'c. But he would sell his soul to save Daniel's, without hesitation or regret, and he knew Daniel would do the same for him. He'd proved it to Jack, over and over again. And seeing Daniel hurt put wounds in Jack that only Daniel's well-being could heal.

Someone famous had once said, "If I should be forced to chose between betraying my friend and betraying my country, I should hope I would have the guts to betray my country." When it came to Daniel, despite being a military man to the core, Jack fully echoed this sentiment and then some.

So he had backed away, selfishly, and foolishly, trying to protect himself from this powerful emotion. While he cared for Carter and Teal'c, he _loved_ Daniel with the devotion of a best friend, older brother and a father, mixed into one.

And he knew that Daniel was his most vulnerable point. If someone wanted to kill Jack, all they needed to do would be to harm Daniel. So he had tried to hide his weakness, hide his emotion, and in the process he had driven Daniel away, cut him out of his life, and shot down his every bewildered attempt to find out what he had done wrong and fix it.

Jack swore, pushing the desk with all his might and shoving the damn thing clear across the room and into the wall. "Son of a bitch!" he snarled viciously. He understood what had happened. But he was damned if he knew how to fix it. Daniel had retreated so far, he'd gone to a place Jack had never seen him at. And now, Jack knew how much he must have hurt the other man, preaching about the solidity of their friendship while simultaneously undercutting it until the last threads of their relationship had snapped under the strain. He would have kicked his own ass, if he could reach it.

He swore again, making up in feeling what he lacked in creativity. His hell-bent tirade was cut short by a hesitant stammer.

"S - sir?"

He turned to see an airman warily poking his head around the door, wondering who the target of the colonel's anger was. He wouldn't be half so scared, Jack thought irritably, if he knew that the colonel was the current focus of his own rather venomous temper.

"What now?"

The airman visibly straightened his spine, staring into space over jack's left shoulder. "The General, sir, requests your presence in the briefing room immediately, sir!" The man rapped out, only somewhat reassured by the promise of protection Hammond had given him after hearing comments on O'Neill's miserable fury.

Not trusting himself to say anything, O'Neill stomped to the briefing room, his expression so thunderous that everyone studiously avoided catching his gaze as they maneuvered to get themselves out of the way as quickly as possible.

Upon arriving at the briefing room, he saw something that made his anger ratchet up several notches. Carter and Teal'c were standing at the table, somberly sorting through the piles of personnel files.

"Colonel O'Neill," said Hammond. "I'm glad you could join us. Take a seat."

"I think I'd rather stand, sir," Jack said, striving to keep his voice level, if not calm.

The General nodded. "I've just been discussing with Major Carter and Teal'c the necessary changes to SG-1."

"_Necessary_," spat Jack, hating the word; palpable proof of his mistake. "It isn't _right_. Hell, none of this would be _necessary_ if Daniel-"

"Colonel!" snapped Hammond.

The silence was deafening. "I was going to say," said Jack slowly, his voice low, "if Daniel hadn't been so damned right."

"Sir?" asked Carter, voice guarded. She looked up from the papers strewn across the table.

"I went to see him last night, Carter," Jack said, slumping down into a chair. His anger drained away. "Did you know he had his locks changed?" She shook her head in the negative. "I couldn't get in. It happened months ago, apparently."

"Colonel, what is the relevance of this?" asked Hammond gently.

"That's just it, sir," said Jack, leaning forward. "Daniel's locks have been changed for months. And I didn't know until yesterday, because we never hang out off base any more. He didn't feel the need to tell us, either, or give us new keys."

"He'd been packing for over a week when I went to see him last night," Sam admitted. "I didn't know. I haven't been to his office - in a long time."

"In the past, it was customary for us all to spend much time together in recreation," said Teal'c. "I often would talk with Daniel Jackson in both his office and the commissary. It has been long, however, since I invited him to share in kel'no'reem."

"The fact is, sir, there were signs of this way before Daniel handed you his resignation. We just didn't see them because we haven't really spent time with him, had much to do with him, outside of missions. This is our fault," said Jack bitterly.

"Perhaps that's what Dr. Jackson meant when he said that there were several personal reasons for his decision," Hammond mused aloud.

For Daniel to have actually come out and said it, not in so many words - Jack winced. He knew that he'd damaged their relationship, but he could only hope that he hadn't damaged it beyond repair.

Carter's head jerked up at the General's statement. "He actually _said_ that, sir?"

The General nodded. "Perhaps you'd like to read the letter?"

All of SG-1 nodded.

Rising, the general said, "I'll be right back."

"God, sir," said Carter after the door had closed. "We did this. We shut Daniel out, drove him away."

"It's more than that, Carter," Jack replied wearily. "We stopped respecting, and we stopped caring. I think that hurt him more than anything else could have. He assumed he'd done something, and tried to fix it, but I wouldn't let him get close. I don't know how much he'd have to be hurt before he stopped even trying to help. You know Daniel. He never gives up - but he gave up on us."

Carter's face was pale, and even Teal'c looked ill. "Holy Hannah," she whispered. "What have we done?"

The General returned, cutting off anything Jack might have tried to say in response. Wordlessly, he handed the single piece of paper in his hand to Jack.

General George Hammond

SGC

To Whom It May Concern:

The purpose of this letter is to formally notify you that I am resigning from the SGC as Civilian Consultant. My last day of employment will date two weeks upon your receiving this letter. My decision to leave the SGC has been thoroughly thought out and reflects my current goals. Thank you for the privilege of working under your command.

Please use the address on this letter to send my final paycheck and any other official communications that may be necessary.

Sincerely,

Dr. Daniel Jackson

The only other writing on the paper was an international address for a post office box in Jerusalem. "Dr. Jackson intends to join an excavation near the Dead Sea," said Hammond. "The address is a post office box rented by the managers of the site."

Jack tossed the letter down on the table, and Sam immediately scooped it up. She looked up from it to meet Jack's gaze, blue eyes incredulous. "It's -"

"Succinct? Tactful? Utterly without emotion?"

"Sir - this - this isn't _Daniel_," she said insistently. "It's not _right_."

"It comes to my mind, Major Carter," said Teal'c, scanning the paper, "that things have not been _right_ for a long time."

"Ya think?" Jack retorted. "What do we do about it?"

"Nothing," said the General, smoothly inserting his way into the situation.

"Sir?" came two startled voices. Teal'c's raised brow spoke loquaciously.

"Dr. Jackson has made his decision, and if he thinks that leaving the SGC is best for him, we will not stand in his way."

"But that's just it sir," said Jack determinedly. "I may not know a lot, but I know that Daniel belongs here. There's nothing out there -" a waved arm emphasized the point , "- that could compare to what's in that Gateroom. The Stargate is Daniel's life."

"And he feels he has to give that up," said Hammond, eyes narrowed at the team. "What does that tell you?" The team was silent, unable to respond. "It tells me that more has been broken here than we're all willing to admit." The general sighed. "I don't want this any more than you do, but it's time to face the fact that there's nothing we can do, outside of making sure the NID doesn't cause any problems for Dr. Jackson."

Not having considered that angle, the three members of SG-1 looked to one another in mute horror.

"Now, I suggest you decide on your fourth, and try not to hold it against whoever it is," said Hammond. "In the meantime, use what tools you have to try to fix this mess."

Jack looked up. The General's face was carefully non-committal, but his words had been carefully phrased. Hammond was clearly hoping that his first-contact team would once more be able to pull off the impossible.

"Sir?" asked Carter, barely-contained hope shining from her eyes.

Hammond slid the resignation letter across the table to Jack, his finger tapping meaningfully on one section of print.

Jack looked up at Sam and smiled. "We have a few days, Carter," he said. "And if that fails, we have an address!"

It turned out that SG-1 would need that address more than they had anticipated.

"He's cut and run!" Jack snapped, storming into the infirmary where Carter was waiting with Teal'c for Dr. Frasier to complete their next pre-mission exams. After waiting fruitlessly for three days for Daniel to show up on base, Jack had gone to his apartment while Sam persuaded the General to make a few calls. The landlady had told Jack that Daniel had left a day and a half ago; he'd been called by the manager of the dig, who'd been hard up for more labor, and asked if he could possibly get out there any sooner.

"What?"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Daniel's gone," said Jack, throwing himself into a plastic chair. "I talked to his landlady. He bolted. Day and a half ago."

"Why would Daniel Jackson do such a thing, when he intended to stay longer to conclude his affairs in Colorado Springs?"

"He told her he got a call from the site manager, and they were coming up short on labor. They wanted him there ASAP or not at all."

"Now what?" asked Sam, staring thoughtfully into space.

"I'm writing a letter to my Great-Aunt Lucy tonight," said Janet meaningfully.

Sam grinned, despite the fact that Janet was currently injecting her with a general antibiotic. "That's brilliant!"

"I'm happy for you, really," said Jack. "What's brilliant? Aside from Teal'c's dazzling smile."

"The address, sir," said Carter, words practically flying from her mouth in her excitement. "Letters!"

"Indeed," said Teal'c. Said dazzling smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Why don't we just-"

"Storm halfway across the globe and drag his butt back to the SGC posthaste?" asked Janet, shaking her head. "Give him some time to get settled, but send him letters. Communicate. Tell him things." The slight censure in her tone told SG-1 that they'd been neglecting to do that for far too long. "Maybe, if you open up, he'll start to write back."

"And if he doesn't?"

The doctor shrugged. "Cassie's already gotten a postcard from him, saying that he arrived safely. I'm sure it'll only be a matter of time."

Time, Jack thought. It was likely to be a long time until Daniel decided to speak to them again. But please, he prayed, please don't let it be a lifetime.

"Now that that's settled, who's the filler?" asked Janet.

"Lieutenant Pat Meyers," Sam replied.

"He'll - well, he's not Daniel. But he can fight, and he's supposed to be somewhat smart," said Jack, sitting on the bed.

"Daniel can fight too, sir," said Sam.

"And how," Jack murmured, remembering the amazing display of control and skill. "Whatever happened to that sword-thingy he brought back with him?"

"He was fighting with _that_?" asked Janet, morbid fascination in her tone.

"I don't know when he picked it up," said Sam. "It was - the most incredible thing I've ever seen." There was a silence as the members of SG-1 remembered the mesmerizing display of skill, all the more amazing because it had been Daniel, and they had seen him transform almost in front of their eyes.

"Daniel Jackson has truly become a great warrior," said Teal'c softly.

"He left it here," Janet commented. "I cleaned it, and when I studied the blood on it, I found that it was his. I never did find out how he got it."

Sam started recounting the story, and by the end Janet's jaw had had plenty of exercise. Closing her mouth with a will, she simply commented, "Still waters."

"Daniel really saved our butts," said Jack. He winced. "And I was on his case the whole time." He shook his head. "Lt. Meyers is going to try to fill in for _Daniel_?" Not possible. No way.

"Cut him some slack?" said Janet, rolling up his sleeve and cleaning a spot with an alcohol swab. "He's not a replacement. Just a reminder for you to get Daniel back as fast as you can. Or I'll be forced to break out the _big_ needles."

"What'd you bet on?" asked Jack smugly, casting off his unhappiness in favor of the prospect of action.

"I'm down for under two months. But Siler's insisted you won't get him back before half a year. So don't lose me my money!" said Janet, grinning as she hefted the syringe.

"I won't - ow!"

- - - - - -

Wow. The response has me tickled - the fact that there was more than one person who couldn't type straight, and expressed what can only be called 'exuberant jubilation' at Daniel "laying Jack out" made my day. (grins) The massive # of reviews has me, quite frankly, astounded. And several people posed options for what they wanted to see happen that I quite like. I know I said long, but it didn't even hit me until last night that I'm working on Ch. 17's draft, unable to see an end in sight without creating a whole 'nother, long, - and probably convoluted - storyline. And Lancelot dropped an interesting bombshell-type-idea that has got me thinking . . . . (evil smirk)


	12. Chapter 12

Daniel was waiting for his luggage in the Ben Gurion International Airport located in Tel Aviv. He had only one medium sized rucksack. Years in the SG program had taught him how to pack efficiently, if nothing else.

Sighting the bag on the carousel, he reached out and snagged it, easily lifting it despite his tiredness. The flight that'd brought him halfway across the globe had been grueling. First, a short flight to the LA International Airport. Then a half-day's delay waiting for the red-eye trans-pacific to Tokyo. From there, he'd been stuck in stopover until the plane could refuel and continue on to Tel Aviv. He still had a long way to go - travelling past Jerusalem ninety minutes by jeep, along the southbound road to Madasa. The dig was located off this road, in an oasis on the brink of the Dead Sea.

Moving to through security and customs, Daniel waited, more exhausted than patient, as his belongings were meticulously searched before he was allowed to exit the airport. All he wanted to do was curl up in a vacant corner of the world and go to sleep. Checking his watch before he realized the fruitlessness of the action, he gave up for the afternoon, checking into a small hotel where he could sleep until morning.

Reaching his small room, he pulled out a postcard he had purchased in LAX, and quickly jotted a note to Cassie, telling her he had arrived safely in Tel Aviv and sending her his love. Tossing a few stamps on it, he trotted down to the hotel's postal service and shelled out for rush delivery.

Yawning, he returned to his room and collapsed, sure in the knowledge that someone from the dig would be picking him up the following afternoon.

He slept for near eighteen hours, waking up at seven the next morning, local time. After showering, shaving, and eating, he felt much more human and wandered around Tel Aviv for hours, finally feeling the freedom and delight in his passion that he had been blocked away from for months. He was not safe - this part of the world never was. Yet he was in no more danger than anyone else. He was not back at Colorado Springs, locked away under the mountain and treated like a flaky civilian. He wasn't on another planet, risking life and limb against evil forces that hated and targeted him. And he realized with a shock, that now he had _time_. There was no rush to have the entirety of the dig at Ein Gedi catalogued, translated and wrapped up by lunchtime. He didn't have to scramble, take shortcuts, and generally practice sloppy archaeology in search for the quick resolution.

This knowledge both comforted and relaxed him greatly. As he ate a solitary lunch in a streetside deli, Daniel felt more at ease than he had in years.

Returning to the hotel, he packed his things and checked out, ready to meet the dig representative at an earlier, agreed-upon café. He left, dressed casually and unremarkably in old, worn jeans, an equally worn t-shirt, and cracked, broken-in hiking boots. Swinging the rucksack onto his shoulders, he made his way to the café, where he sat at an outside table.

He'd been waiting for about ten minutes when a man in slacks and a shirt, with a suit jacket slung over his arm, approached him. Dark glasses hid his eyes. "Dr. Daniel Jackson?"

He didn't look like he worked on a dig, Daniel mused, taking in his light colored skin and soft features. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Yes," he said simply. "Who are you?"

"I'm a representative," the man said. Daniel's mouth tightened. NID. "I've come to offer you a place within our ranks."

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," said Daniel politely, pushing his chair back slightly.

"I have a gun aimed directly at you," the man continued conversationally. Daniel's eyes flickered to the jacket over his arm, which was conveniently covering his hand. "Perhaps you'd like to continue this discussion elsewhere? We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

Daniel rose slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight at all times. He allowed the man to lead him away from the café, and down an unused street. Readying himself, Daniel turned slowly.

The man was still fully focused on him, and Daniel knew that he was waiting for reinforcements. The man pulled the jacket off his arm, revealing the automatic pistol in his hand.

Daniel didn't wait any longer. Quickly, he twisted out of range and kicked out strongly. The gun skittered from the man's hand into the gutter. Daniel avoided the man's punch, getting between him and the gun, and drove the heel of his hand into the man's solar plexus. His attacker bent double, gasping for air, and Daniel delivered a precise, direct blow to the side of the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

Checking to make sure he was still breathing, the archaeologist moved to the gun and checked it. The clip was full, and in addition there was a round in the chamber. Replacing the safety on the gun, Daniel ejected the bullet in the chamber and pocketed it, tucking the gun at the small of his back and pulling his t-shirt over the weapon to conceal it.

He'd cut himself adrift from the SGC, and the NID had come calling, less than willing to take no for an answer. He had no doubt that if he hadn't been able to incapacitate his attacker, he would have been crippled. He was needed alive, mentally functioning and with his hands intact. But that wouldn't have prevented the man from taking out one or both of his kneecaps, binding him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

Returning to the café, Daniel gathered his things and went to the bus station. The ever-present danger of bus bombings was outweighed by the sure threat of the NID. Luckily, buying a one-way ticket to Jerusalem didn't require any name or ID, so he was spared picking an alias and running the risk of local police interest in his actions. He knew that the NID would be tracking him, so he also bought three extra tickets - one to Nazarat Illit in the North District, one for Qiryat Yam in the Haifa District, and the last to Dimona in the Southern District.

He didn't think that this would throw the NID off his trail - instead, he hoped to spread their resources thin by forcing them to search for him all over Israel. Eventually they'd smarten up and start searching dig sites for him, knowing that he'd be at an excavation - but there were dozens of sites scattered across the country. With any luck, if he kept his head down he'd be able to avoid notice for the duration of his stay.

Glancing around the small station, Daniel left and made his way to a tiny deli located not far from the station. He'd need food if he planned to walk from Jerusalem to Ein Gedi - it was almost two hours by car, which translated to over a day's worth of walking, if he kept the pace swift. And he wanted to be able to see the road and not be seen from it, as well.

Lingering in the store, Daniel selected several cans of food, water and non-perishables, in addition to a can opener and matches. He put a few other useful items in the pile, and quickly retreated to the men's room after paying. In the relative privacy of the tiny cubicle, he packed his foodstuffs into his rucksack. It wouldn't do to display the fact that he thought he would be camping out for part of his trip. The NID was nothing if not obsessively observant.

Exiting unobtrusively by the back door, Daniel inconspicuously made his way straight to the bus headed for Jerusalem. He didn't see anyone following him, but the entirety of the bus ride he spent planning. It was an hour to Jerusalem, more or less, and the bus was hot, crowded, and - once the windows were opened to relieve the humidity - unbearably dusty. Thanking Janet once more for the heavy-duty allergy medicine she had insisted on giving him, Daniel finally disembarked in Jerusalem. He immediately headed to the bus station, where he exchanged the extra three tickets for three different ones.

Glancing at the clock, Daniel quickened his pace to catch another bus. He arrived there fifteen minutes early. Handing the driver his ticket, Daniel chose a seat directly in front of the rear exit to the bus. He waited as the bus filled, and at the last possible second disembarked, escaping the notice of the harried driver.

Grabbing his things, Daniel wandered aimlessly around Jerusalem for several hours before inquiring the easiest way to get to Kefar Sava, a city in the Central District. He stopped in several more establishments, asking directions to a different city in each District at the separate stores and restaurants.

When lunchtime came around, the city was bursting with people. Knowing that he blended into the crowd only to a limited extent, Daniel decided that now was the time to begin his journey.

He unobtrusively located the road that would take him to Madasa, and noted with pleasure that it was an absolute nightmare - rocky, twisty, the landscape on both sides abounding with scrub and brush, as well as large rock formations. As a result, it was rarely traveled, which would make it that much easier for him to avoid any approaching vehicles.

Daniel began to walk, assuming the alert mentality that prevailed whenever he was off-world. He used the cover available automatically, and kept a steady pace that he knew would see him to Ein Gedi. Several miles out from Jerusalem he stopped, out of view of the road behind a large rock outcropping. Wary of snakes and other desert wildlife, he built a small fire, heating a can of soup on a rock. He wouldn't be able to risk a fire when the sun went down - in all probability he'd be forced to move closer to the road so he didn't lose his way. Even though he wasn't particularly hungry now, he knew he would need to eat so that it wasn't an issue later.

The rest of SG-1 wouldn't believe it if they could see him now, he thought wryly. Not only was he stopping to eat of his own volition, but he was covering his tracks, and going armed. Daniel almost always carried a weapon with him whenever he went on digs. He'd forgone it this time, wanting to avoid the hassle of carrying a gun into an area where the possession of firearms was almost a guarantee of constant surveillance, especially if you happened to be foreign.

Eating his food, Daniel smothered the fire, making certain that the embers were completely out before dismantling the fire ring and sitting down to consume his meal. He missed them, but it was an old ache. He missed the way they used to be - and had been missing it for a long time.

The archaeologist stood decisively, packing away his utensils and trash. Taking a sip of water, he looked around the area. It wouldn't fool someone like Teal'c, but it would be impossible to tell from a helicopter that he'd been here.

As he walked, Daniel thought. Now that the NID was after him, he would be better served to use a false last name. He looked nothing like the nervous, excitable and somewhat earnest young scholar whose career had been trashed by a disastrous lecture nigh on six years ago. Much as he disliked the idea of taking Nick's last name, even in ruse, he had to take a name that he associated with himself, however distantly. Daniel Ballard, then. The linguist wrinkled his nose in distaste. At least this way, he wouldn't forget and rouse suspicion by failing to respond to the fake name.

Noting the position of the sun, Daniel looked back toward Jerusalem, lights beginning to twinkle in the distance. He'd covered maybe a third of the stretch to the Ein Gedi oasis. He'd continue on through the night, he decided. The sky was clear, the moon near full, and any cars would be forced to use their headlights, giving him ample time to get clear of view.

His decision made, Daniel began angling more towards the road as dusk settled over the hot land. The desert climate meant that temperatures dropped with the sun, so on one of his infrequent rest breaks, he pulled a sweatshirt from his pack, and over his head.

By the time the moon had risen, Daniel estimated that he was a little over halfway to the Ein Gedi oasis, having walked for near seven hours.

Headlights in the distance, coming from Jerusalem, caught his attention. They were far off, but Daniel still took no chances, immediately heading into the brush, striking out on a forty-five degree angle from the road. There was a stone outcropping not far from where he was, and he raced towards it.

Flinging himself around the opposite side of the craggy ridge, he tossed down his pack. The moon was high, and his watch told him that it was almost one in the morning. Mindful of snakes, scorpions and the like, Daniel plopped to the ground, resting against his pack.

Blinking, Daniel squinted. The sun was shining in his eyes. Grunting a little, he stood. He'd fallen asleep, his circadian rhythm out of whack from both 'gate and commercial travelling. It was slightly before six in the morning, he noted. Daniel took care of his personal needs before pulling on his pack and continuing, munching a power bar for breakfast.

If he kept a good pace, he'd likely make Ein Gedi after lunch. And, he noted wryly, he'd still be there earlier than he'd intended. Thinking over the events of the past day, it became clear to Daniel that he would know the strength of NID intelligence when he got to the dig. The entire scene at the café screamed of desperation - the linguist got the clear sense that they hadn't been really ready to apprehend him. If they had, he'd have been surrounded, hustled into a van, drugged out of his mind and locked away in Area 51 before he'd been able to blink. The fact that he'd escaped so easily suggested to him that they'd been tracking him, and on the verge of losing him, before they'd been forced to act. If he was wrong, he'd be trekking to Ein Gedi to find them waiting for him at the oasis.

Shaking these thoughts from his mind, Daniel noted that it was once again time to take cover in the brush. Checking the sun's position, he decided that it was also time to open another can of soup.

Building a little fire on the far side of a small hill, Daniel crouched over the flames, cooking his food. He gulped it down hot, wincing as the burning liquid seared down his throat. He only waited until he had completely snuffed the fire before consuming the rest.

Heartened by the food, the rest of Daniel's trip to the oasis went quickly. By noon, the dig was in sight. Girding up his courage, Daniel took a deep breath and left the road behind, cutting cross-country and ignoring the well-used dirt path as he made his way to what would be home for the next four months.

- - -- - - - - - -

Ok, new chapter, nice and early for you - just because I'm going to be running around like a crazed llama for the rest of the day, on account de el cumpleanos de me hermano menor. He'll be 13. Oi. Surprise parties are a pain . . .

But reviews always make me feel better!

Psst - andromeda90! 'Exuberantly joyful' according to the lembas7 RULES OF LIFE = deliriously happy to the point of dancing on tabletops!


	13. Chapter 13

Daniel carefully lowered his pack, leaving it outside the door before ducking past the tent flap. Inside, various students were carefully examining and cleaning small artifacts, pieces of pottery, and the like. They were being overseen by a grad student who appeared about twenty-eight or so, with short dark hair, deeply tanned skin and brown eyes. It was to this man Daniel addressed himself. "Excuse me, is Professor Macauly around?"

"Who're you?" The younger man asked, looking him over. Daniel knew he was pretty well projecting the persona of a simple volunteer, not to be trusted with anything past physical labor and perhaps holding a brush from time to time. His clothes were worn and dusty, and though his hair was short and well-kept, a day's growth of beard added to the overall scruffy impression.

"Daniel Ballard. I contacted him a few months ago, and he said that he needed an extra set of hands."

"We always need an extra set of hands," the man replied. "I'm Tobias Jones. Tobe, most call me."

"Nice to meet you," said Daniel, shaking the proffered hand.

"Likewise," the student returned. "You're American?" Daniel shrugged. "Speak any of the local dialects?"

"A bit," said Daniel.

Tobe broke out into a grin, happiness creasing his face. "You'll be handy to have 'round, then. C'mon. Mac'll be at the main dig site, nagging and haranguing up a storm."

Daniel followed Tobe past tents scattered haphazardly across the oasis. "Most of the tents where we handle the artifacts aren't far from the actual site of recovery," said Tobe. "Mac's a maniac about preservation of the site. Anyway, we camp in the palm grove adjacent to the ancient village." He pointed to a circle of tents several hundred yards from the site. "There's plenty of extra tent room, if you need any. The oasis is good for swimming, washing and the like, but drinking and cooking water comes from barrels near the main pavilion. We'll sure be glad of an extra pair of hands and eyes, I can tell you. Some of the other volunteers drank from the oasis. Wound up sick, had to ship on home. Oy, Mac!" Tobe shouted as they neared the site. The soft sound of chisels and delicately wielded shovels carried on the air.

A head covered in a straw hat poked up from the ground. "Tobe, what now? The students crying on your last nerve?" The voice was deep and heavily accented, calling to mind harsh mountains in the Scottish highlands.

"No," Tobe shouted back. "Got some fresh meat for ya!"

"Ah, volunteers," Daniel heard the man murmur as he hauled himself out of the pit which was currently being excavated.

He approached, and Daniel got his first good look at Professor Macauly. The man was shorter than he by about a foot, and much rounder, with a shock of steel-gray hair flying wildly about his head, only barely contained by his large straw sombrero. He was more round than portly, and his snapping green eyes brooked no nonsense.

"Daniel Ballard," said Daniel, extending his hand.

"Ah, the Yank," said Macauley. "I, as you already know, am Professor Macauly. And if you feel like spitting that lot out every time we meet, by all means go ahead. I'm Mac to those who'd rather not bother, and most don't. Any relation to Nick Ballard?"

"None that I'd care to mention," Daniel shrugged, smiling. He'd known he'd be called on it, but he hadn't thought it would be quite so soon.

"Ah. Well then. When'd you get here?"

"Just now," said Tobe, grinning.

"That's funny - Michelle didn't give the mail call."

"Oh - I didn't hitch a ride," said Daniel. "Walked."

"From Madasa?" asked Mac.

"Jerusalem."

Mac started to laugh, loud and long. "Oh, you're a right crazy desert bug! You'll fit in just fine here!"

Daniel grinned, and Tobe grunted. "All right, now that you've taken on this desert bug, you'll let me go back to my job?"

"Go on, then," Mac said, still grinning amicably. "Don't mess too much with their minds - there has to be something left for me to grade!"

Tobe just gave Mac a wicked grin, and strode purposefully back to the tent filled with twenty-year-olds.

"All right," said Mac, becoming businesslike with a snap. "You've told me that you've worked on other digs before. Where, when?"

"Egypt, Syria, Libya, Brazil, Central America, and one in Southwest America. All more than seven years ago."

"You've certainly run the circuit," Mac said, almost under his breath. "So I'll guess that you're familiar with the tools of the trade, then."

"You don't lose it," Daniel said simply, following as Mac began to lead him around the dig.

"True. All right, let me introduce you to the dig," the Scottish professor began, leading Daniel around the men and women working to meticulously clear the site. "We are, as you know, excavating a Roman-Byzantine village. As of now, we've uncovered two flour mills, one from the Byzantine period in the 5th and 6th centuries C.E., and the other from the Mamluk period, which extended from the 13th to 15th centuries. We've also discovered a Roman bathhouse and perfumery. We're working on excavating those sites right now, and quite frankly the job's tedious, exhausting and rewarding. Think you're up to it?"

As they'd spoken, Mac had pointed out the various sites, switching smoothly into and out of lecture mode with refreshing speed.

Daniel looked around and nodded. "Yes," he answered.

"You know, of course, that everything we find is credited to the Hebrew University's Institute of Archaeology," Mac said.

Daniel nodded, a slightly confused look passing over his face. "Of course," he responded. "Why-"

"I have to make sure I say that to everyone on the dig," said Mac. "Makes no sense to me as we're all contracted and paid by the University, but then regulations never did make much sense to me." The quirky professor grinned roguishly, and Daniel felt himself smiling in return.

A loud ringing noise from the palm grove had everyone moving to pack up. Daniel glanced at Mac for an explanation. "Dinner," the professor explained. "Or lunch. Whichever label you prefer. Only way for us to hear Smitty. The chef. As he likes to be known. More commonly called the Grubmaster. But never to his face, of course."

Daniel snorted, schooling his expression as he followed Mac to the chow line, in a large, open tent just outside the palm grove.

Grabbing a hotdog, bread and beans, he was waved over to a table by Tobe. "Oy! Daniel!"

He moved in the young man's direction, noting that also at that table were most of the people who had been working to excavate the site.

"Everyone," said Tobe imperiously, "I'd like you to meet Daniel. He's a new volunteer, and just arrived today, on foot, from Jerusalem." An impressive whistle pierced the air, coming from a thin, carrot-topped woman of about forty. "Let me make the introductions," Tobe continued. He indicated a young, blonde girl sitting across from Daniel. "Michelle, twenty-four. She's working on her Ph.D. in archaeology, and is a graduate of the Hebrew University. She's been on-site since the beginning, and usually makes the runs into Jerusalem and Madasa for supplies. Anything you want, she'll get it for you. Unless you sneak local wildlife into her tent."

A shout of laughter went up as Michelle made a face at Tobe, who grinned shamelessly before continuing. "Saloma," he gestured to a dark, petite young woman eating a hamburger. She waved, mouth full, smiling. "She's the only other grad student aside from yours truly, doing an extra internship. She graduated from Oxford a year ago, and has been hard at work revolutionizing the technology for our field. We owe lots of our cool little gadgets to her." Saloma bowed slightly at the waist amid general applause.

"I," interjected a fifty-ish man with a peeling nose, "am Lewis Clarke Smytheson IV."

"Ignore Louie," interjected Michelle, glancing at the lanky man whose auburn hair was his most distinguishing feature. "He 's a third-generation grave-digger and proud of it."

"Louie is our resident expert on the Byzantine Empire, and a twenty-year teacher at the Hebrew University. Had a few of the American Ivy's slathering at his feet to teach there, but he went round the globe instead."

"It's all about ambience," said Louie, dipping his hotdog in his beans. "The American Northeast just doesn't have it."

"I'm Galya," said the woman who had whistled. "Forty-two and proud of it. Latin professor, also at the Hebrew University." Tobe sneered elegantly at her, and she ignored him. "Some people think that they're the self-appointed masters of PR," she continued. "I, however, believe fully in a woman's right to announce herself." She grinned, and stuck her tongue out at Tobe.

Daniel chuckled.

"And Ziv," said Tobe. "Looking to move to the UK, and currently between jobs." The blonde man looked up from his plate. "Permanently between jobs," he corrected lightheartedly. "Why do something as tedious as working when I could be here? With the sun, sand -"

"Snakes," interrupted Galya.

"Sandstorms," Louie chimed in.

"Scorpions!" Saloma picked up.

"And students," added Mac with an evil leer. The entire table burst into mock shrieks of horror, and Daniel couldn't contain his mirth. The rest of the meal was amiable and laid-back, the others exchanging jokes and talking about progress made on the site. All Daniel's questions were well-received, and almost everyone had something to say. At one point, a heated argument broke out between Louie and Ziv over what materials were used in the perfumery discovered. While the expert insisted that myrrh and rare spices were prominently found in these cases, Ziv speculated that a more common material, such as from the basalm plant, had been used.

The argument lasted through the end of the meal and back into the dig, and Galya took charge of Daniel.

"All right, I want you to start clearing this area," said Galya, grinning at him. "Don't mind me, I've got a little bit of translating to do."

Daniel nodded, looking over his tools critically. Galya was no doubt making sure he didn't screw up, and while Daniel didn't feel it was necessary, he also knew how long it'd been since he'd been part of a serious dig.

Picking up a trowel, Daniel crouched down at the base of a stone wall and began to methodically clear away around the foundation. As time passed, he realized how much he had missed this - simply discovering. No pressure to have it wrapped up by the end of the day, with the threat of never being able to return. He'd even refused to bring his video camera, hating the palpable reminder of not having enough time to even look at all of what had been discovered.

He was so absorbed in his work that he barely noticed the increasing darkness as the sun went down, and the loud buzzing and sudden influx of illumination that occurred when the stadium lighting was turned on registered only faintly on his consciousness.

"What?" he asked, surprised, as something grabbed his arm. He looked up into Tobe's grinning face.

"Galya finally gave up when it became obvious that she'd have to clamber down here and get you," he said.

"What?" Daniel asked again, utterly confused.

"It's time for supper, desert bug," Tobe replied. "C'mon!"

Daniel put down his tools, wiped his filthy hands on equally grimy jeans, and smiled a little.

The evening meal was more toned down than the last had been; everyone was tired from a day hard at work. After eating, everyone - including the tiny Smitty, shorter and skinnier than Saloma despite being ten years older - covered the exposed areas of the dig for the night, protecting what they'd already unearthed from being reburied by the wind or damaged by a sudden storm.

Then, the group retreated to the palm grove, where the teachers and grad students joyfully pulled rank, claiming the oasis' bathing privileges to the groans of the undergrads. Daniel had been bunked with Tobe by Mac, "seeing as how you two get along so well," as he put it.

Used to digs, and further desensitized by years of communal showers, Daniel had no compunctions about stripping to his boxers and jumping into the oasis. A loud wolf-whistle caught his attention, and he looked over to find Saloma and Michelle clapping at him. Daniel blushed uncomfortably, and ducked his head under the water. He surfaced to hear Galya say, "Now look, you've embarrassed him! How sweet!"

Daniel shook his head and ducked under the water again. When he came back up, it was to find Mac grinning at him. "Drowning yourself won't help with this little problem, Daniel. What say we formulate a plan of attack?"

Three minutes later a boisterous water fight had broken out, punctuated by shrieks and yells. Daniel eventually disentangled himself from the fight, drying himself off and moving back to the tent to get dressed. Happy voices pulled him from the relative silence, and he joined the rest of the adults around the campfire as the students ran toward the oasis with joyous shouts.

Daniel opened his journal, listening with one ear to the conversations around him. He stared at the page, grasping for a way to start writing. Sighing, he told himself to start at the beginning, and just try to go on from there. He picked up his pen and started to write, using his language of comfort - ancient Egyptian. Feeling freedom in the security of the language, Daniel felt his emotions start to leak through the wall he'd built, and trickle onto the page. But still, the detached sense remained.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by his name, in the corner of his hearing. He glanced up to find everyone staring at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what?" he asked.

"The lads were just wondering what your story is," Mac explained benignly.

Daniel raised a brow. "My story?"

"Where you from? What brings you here? That sort of thing," said Louie, as he smeared aloe lotion onto his cranberry-colored nose.

Daniel shut the journal, sitting up from where he was reclining in the grass. "I've been living in Colorado for the past six years or so. My job was becoming -" here, Daniel searched for words to adequately describe what had gone on in the past year. " - It was . . . " He shook his head and started over. "I worked closely for all that time with a group of people who were always accepting of my ideas and standards. During the past year, their acceptance somehow disappeared, and my - usefulness, I guess, declined." Daniel shrugged. "Eventually, I was getting lost in the machine, and decided that I needed to get out, get back to what I love."

"Not surprising that a desert bug like you' be lost in a corporation," said Mac with a grunt. "But that's enough melancholy for one night, don't you think? Ziv, bring out the music-making machine!" Ziv happily obliged, pulling a battered fiddle from a case near his side.

The next hour was filled with music and dance, singing and happiness as the group celebrated a new arrival. Daniel found himself truly relaxing, losing the tension that had held him captive ever since Sha'uri's kidnapping. As he lounged in the grass, he could almost feel himself melting into the earth, the strain within him dissipating, blowing away with the evening breeze.

Yawning, and begging off from singing for one night - although he was treated to promises of retribution the following day - Daniel made his way to the tent when he found his eyes closing of their own accord. He pulled the flap shut and made sure the gun was placed safely within reach yet out of sight, before rolling into his sleeping bag, leaving the zipper open - just in case.

As he found himself drifting off, he could hear Michelle's voice rising sweetly over the camp as she sang a haunting lullaby, the words a pidgin mix of English, German, and Russian.

__

Shlep ma mama, Shlep ma papa

Shlep ma kinder-ton-yan

Mama, Papa gaylusac

Live in da palay-ran-sum

Shelp mon kin mon sheini angle

A le lu le lu, le lu

Shelp mon kin mon sheini angle

Mind the git-hat-su.

Daniel translated the song as he drifted off to sleep, finding comfort in the words and soft melody.

My mother slept, my father slept,

Slept also my beloved children.

Mother and Father gone before

Live in the Palace of Sweet Dreams.

Sleep well my babes through the stormy night,

A le lu le lu, le lu,

Sleep well my babes through the stormy night,

And mind the Sandman's tunes.

- - - - - - - - -

The lullaby posted above is something sung to me by my grandmother when I was a small child, which her mother - a refugee from Lithuania to America - sang to her. While it is phonetically spelled as close as I can get it, I know nothing other than that it is most definitely a mix of English, Lithuanian, and possibly German. The translation is completely my creation. (Hope you enjoyed your glimpse into "The Secret Life of lembas7"!!)

All the reviews cheered me immensely, thank you so much! (hands out goody bags) Yesterday made me feel like a lemming on speed, and I slept in today to recover from the hassle of a surprise well done, as well as a dog who decided to let loose his bladder . on my bed. So, yes, he is now banished. To the floor.

As for the two pts of contention my reviewers were so kind as to mention - the name thing is deliberate. As for the other, I have little knowledge of guns, but may I say, that everything I do is done for a reason. (snickers) I can PROMISE that it will come back again later. (evil grin). I absolutely love that people are reviewing with pointers and questions! Candy to all!!


	14. Chapter 14

"Lt. Meyers," said General Hammond evenly, surveying the team around the briefing table. "Would you care to tell me what happened?"

Four weeks since Daniel had left, almost without a word to anyone. Four weeks, extensive training and one extremely abrupt mission. SG-1 had been on P7X-934 for a grand total of thirty-six minutes before they were forced, by extremely angry locals, to retreat through the Stargate.

The young lieutenant gulped, his expression decidedly unhappy behind his military demeanor. "We arrived on P7X-934 to find the natives waiting for us. They had apparently been alerted by the activation of the Stargate for the MALP. They appeared to be African, with several of the traditional ornaments, weapons, and customs of the tribes of what is now the northern part of South Africa. I tried to talk with them, and everything seemed to be going well -"

"Until they started shooting at us?" O'Neill asked sarcastically. He'd been in an unusually touchy mood for about a month, and the entire base - with the possible exception of Lt. Meyer - knew why. He was beating himself up over the events of the past year - the events that had led his archaeologist and best friend to leave without even saying goodbye. He grew more and more upset as time went on and the reality of the situation sank in. The only saving grace for the rest of SG-1 lay in Daniel's regular correspondences with Cassie, and thus with Janet. The infirmary had become the favorite hangout for SG-1, and they would wait there almost obsessively for Janet to bring in Daniel's latest letter, hungering for any news of him.

"Um - well - "

"Apparently the leader, Khefi, reacted badly to something we said or did," Sam interrupted. "The tribesmen didn't appear to react negatively to our appearance or weapons."

"I concur," said Teal'c.

"Lieutenant Meyers?" asked Hammond.

The young man's eyes were fixed somewhere above Hammond's head. "Sir. I may have - accidentally - mispronounced a phrase when speaking to Khefi."

"Mispronounced?" demanded Jack, incredulity dripping from the word.

"I think I might have - gravely insulted their people," Meyers continued, the last part coming out in a rush as he flushed miserably.

"Gravely insulted them," murmured Jack in disbelief. "Ya think!" The colonel's main source of irritation at present moment was a strip of skin sliced off his hip from a spear that nearly didn't miss. Long-term irritation was aimed primarily at himself. In addition, his frustration with the current state of affairs at the SGC was reaching a boiling point.

The amount of missions had decreased by nearly a third. The reason for this was that, even though forced to hire a group of archaeologists to make up for Daniel's absence, there was still a massive backlog of work that impacted the efficient running of the SGC. Until he was gone, it was never evident how much work Daniel was constantly doing. Now, MALP telemetry that Daniel would have been instantly able to classify as potential or useless had to pass the entire panel of anthropologists. The group - which could rarely agree, apparently - had to review each and every piece of film from the MALPS sent to each habitable planet, in attempts to decipher the writing there. It could take three days for Hammond to get results that would have taken Daniel Jackson three minutes.

The rest of the SG teams had never really realized how completely Daniel was needed - until they found themselves guessing, sometimes with disastrous results - about the function of devices that had something clearly written on them. Something that, more often than not, turned out to be directions or a "Do Not Touch" sign that they had found themselves trying to figure out.

While more of Teal'c's time was being demanded by the archaeologists who were having problems with the Goa'uld language, all of SG-1 was feeling the latent resentment in the air, aimed mostly at them. Not only had the SGC been born because of Daniel Jackson, in good part it ran because of his efforts as well. The entirety of the SGC was feeling his loss and making it known, in a not-so-subtle way, to the team that had let him go.

It was becoming ever more apparent to SG-1, however, how incomplete their team and lives were. Daniel had - even when they'd only seen him during missions - filled a vital part of each one of them. Without him, they were only half-alive, half-human.

And it was pissing Jack O'Neill off, for one. He felt caught - and had stopped himself midway through his fourth letter to Daniel. What he needed to say had to be said face-to-face, not on paper from a thousand miles away. He knew that Sam had been writing a letter to Daniel almost every day, and Teal'c had also added his own messages to her missives, but Carter hadn't yet gotten the courage to send any of them. Jack felt that the split in the team was his fault, and couldn't be mended by a simple "I'm sorry" written and delivered. He wanted Daniel back, at the SGC and on SG-1, but knew that if he was going to get his best friend back, he'd have to earn his trust. He wouldn't even let himself think about forgiveness. Although Daniel had an amazing capacity to give, Jack knew he couldn't demand more of his friend than Daniel had. And he was almost certain that no one could have it in them to forgive him for everything he had done to Daniel.

Jack's attention veered sharply back to Hammond, as the General sighed. "Lieutenant Meyers, you are dismissed. I'll see you in my office tomorrow at 0830."

The young man nodded, saluted and left. The rest of SG-1 remained sitting, throwing puzzled glances at each other.

"No doubt you're wondering why I requested that you stay after the debriefing," Hammond said, rising and moving to the window looking out into the Gateroom.

"I'd have to say that yea, it did cross our minds," Jack returned, looking around at the members of his team.

Hammond remained with his back to the room. "It has come to my attention that someone attempted to gain access to Dr. Jackson's personal belongings."

"NID?" asked Sam.

The general turned. "I have no proof. All I know is that a man of very average description was denied access to the secure holding area containing Dr. Jackson's notes and mission journals. He tried to pass himself off as a member of Daniel's former team."

"What?" Jack snarled.

"I have no proof," Hammond said, his voice level.

Jack sat back. "But you think that the next step will be to track Daniel down and -"

"I _suspect_," the General continued with pointed emphasis, "that may be their next move. And Dr. Jackson's regular correspondence with Dr. Frasier will mean that he won't be very difficult to find."

Sam winced. "What can we do about it, sir?"

"As of tomorrow morning, I'm sending the three of you to Ein Gedi in Jerusalem," said Hammond.

"Ein Gedi? Is this the location of Daniel Jackson's excavation?" asked Teal'c.

"You knew where he was the whole time, you knew that I knew, and you _still _did nothing?" asked Jack. Hammond pinned him to the chair with a single look. "Sir," Jack finished weakly.

"Quite frankly, yes," Hammond replied. "I didn't reveal anything because it was entrusted to me in confidence, and at the time it was safer for Dr. Jackson that his location remain vague. Jerusalem is, after all, a large city."

"But now -"

"Now, I think we can be almost certain that the NID will be tracing all of Dr. Jackson's movements, trying to pin down his exact location. They will of course attempt to recruit him, but I think we all know the response they'll get."

"Daniel hates the NID almost as much as the Goa'uld," Sam agreed.

"In light of that, I want you to go to Ein Gedi, and stay there until you're sure the threat from the NID is neutralized."

The team nodded, and Hammond said simply, "Dismissed." On their way out the door, Jack pulled up as Hammond added, "And if you can find some way to mend the bridges between you and bring our boy home, I would be personally grateful."

Jack nodded, his resolve stiffening as he left the room. Some things could only be said face-to-face, and here was his chance.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sorry about the delay! I was hijacked on a short family vacation, and while my lovely laptop joined me, my internet access did not. Another short hijacking looks to be looming on the horizon, say Thursday, so I won't be able to vouch for my punctuality then, although I will try.


	15. Chapter 15

"Essene," Daniel said positively.

"Essene," said Ziv dreamily. "Just think about it!"

The two were standing at the highest point of the oasis, roughly 200 meters above the Dead Sea. Three days ago, Daniel had been practicing Budo with a staff, when he had tripped over what appeared to be an overgrown, half-buried well. Since then, focus of the professors had shifted from the main dig to this small settlement. So far, there was material evidence pointing to a reclusive community that had lived on this bluff, the dating running through the 1st and 2nd centuries C.E.

Daniel had been peering over Galya's shoulder as she translated a tablet in the village that spoke of a sect of individuals that lived in seclusion above Ein Gedi, and had let out an excited yell when he read the reference to the Essene. He'd scared Galya, as she hadn't been finished when he'd shouted.

The entire camp was abuzz with excitement. The undergraduate students had been turned loose in the main dig under the careful eyes of the graduate students, who were working in shifts in order to steal some time at the Essene site.

In the four weeks since Daniel had left the SGC, he'd been welcomed into the small archaeological community at Ein Gedi. He hadn't been given the chance to be shy, and where he'd have felt awkward barging into their set patterns and friendships, they gladly made room for him. Several nights ago he'd gotten deeply involved in a long-winded argument with Louie - who seemed to enjoy debating entirely too much - and his old instincts had jumped to life, causing him to halt almost mid-syllable. It was when Ziv had encouragingly urged him on that he remembered that he was among people who understood him, and could listen without tuning him out. It had hit him almost like a blow, as had a sudden wave of sadness. He'd lost heart at that point, and excused himself. He'd been trying to regain his center, understand what he was feeling, when he'd tripped over the well.

A loud ringing split the air. Daniel turned, and Ziv's smile prompted a puzzled glance. "It's mail call," the other man explained, turning back towards the palm grove. "Michelle goes every second Saturday, regularly."

Daniel followed Ziv back to the meal pavilion, where Michelle stood on a table amidst a group of students, all clamoring and talking loudly amongst themselves. Michelle reached into a large bag at her foot, pulled out a clump of letters and shouted a name. She distributed the mail with practiced efficiency. Daniel snatched the chance to grab a little relaxation, knowing that there would be nothing for him.

All the mail was handed out, and Michelle was puzzling over a letter in her hand. "Anyone know a - Cassie Frasier?" she shouted.

Daniel raised a hand, standing and going over to Michelle. "Next time, remind her to put your name on it," Michelle laughed.

Daniel grinned, grasping the letter. Mac ambled over, looking at the return address. "So, you left your lady-love in Colorado, eh?" he asked.

Daniel burst out laughing at the idea, and when he'd finally gotten control of himself he gasped, "Ah, no." He took a few deep breaths and sat down, opening the letter carefully, saving the return address. "She's sort of my adopted niece."

"Ah. You have brothers and sisters?" asked Louie. Daniel didn't contribute any information about his life in Colorado, or anything about himself.

"No," Daniel said, squinting at Cassie's tiny handwriting. Sensing the confusion, he said, "My - colleagues and I kind of 'found' Cassie - she was homeless. We got to know her, talk with her, and eventually a friend of mine who also happens to be my doctor adopted her. Cassie decided to adopt me, and my friends, as her surrogate uncles and aunt."

Daniel scanned the letter amid general noises of comprehension, and soon silence reigned in the tent as everyone perused two weeks' worth of mail.

__

Dear Uncle Daniel,

Hi! I loved your last postcard - and mom was really happy to hear from you. She takes your messages into work sometimes, to show Sam, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Teal'c.

Daniel frowned, and sighed.

__

. . . School's been boring, but I've scraped through math and Latin. Mom's planning a trip for us this summer - what do you think of Aruba?

I know mom told me not to say anything, but I still want to ask. Are you ever going to come home? I miss you, and I know mom does too. I haven't seen Uncle Jack or Teal'c or even Sam in a while, but they don't sound very happy when they call, even though they try.

The letter continued on, telling Daniel of Cassie's recent attempt to try out for her school's color guard, and that she was thinking about taking up the saxophone. Daniel mused over her question, glad that she'd asked it despite the fact that Janet obviously didn't want to pressure him. Knowing that there were a few people out there who missed him simultaneously comforted and saddened him - mostly because he missed them as well.

Folding the letter up, Daniel left the others to their reading. Ziv was exclaiming over a picture of his wife and two daughters, while Mac was sharing his four-year-old grandson's latest escapade involving a set of bagpipes and peanut butter with Galya. Saloma was chatting with Michelle over her boyfriend's latest missive, and Daniel felt slightly out-of-place. Shaking the sensation off, he went to his tent to grab his staff. As he bent, he felt the gun pressing into his back.

Despite his feeling of security at the dig, the knowledge that the NID was looking for him was ever present in the back of his mind. Moving near the oasis, Daniel found a somewhat sheltered clearing screened by palms in which to practice.

Removing his weapon and shirt, folding the letter securely in the cloth, he took up a ready stance and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. On the last deep exhalation, his eyes flew open and he began to move.

Over, around, down, out and in the staff wove complex patterns through the air. Flashing in a blur of sand-colored wood, Daniel twirled the staff using fingers and arms, around his shoulders and in sweeps. Blows and blocks, offense and defense melded into continuous motion, his long-fingered hands moving confidently over the length of the pole. He was involved in a complex pattern dance, the equivalent of the kata for a wooden staff.

Tension drained away, followed by uncertainty and unease. There was only himself and the staff. Minute after minute Daniel moved with seamless grace, switching into a more complex dance without a pause. Within moments he was airborne, practicing on this relatively even turf the few flips and gymnastic maneuvers that he'd mastered in his five years of training.

The pattern dance ended with an abrupt halt, the staff coming to rest at Daniel's side. He took a deep breath, and looked around the grove. From where he was he could see people starting to emerge from the pavilion, and he returned to the tent, putting away both staff and letter. Since he didn't carry the gun while excavating, he left it in the tent as well. He was discreetly armed, however, whenever he wasn't digging.

The rest of the day was full of an uncommon amount of conversation, as everyone exchanged stories of what their families in the outside world had been up to for the past two weeks.

The chatter increased even as the light decreased, and the dig was closed early for the night on account of it being a Saturday. The singing and festivities continued well into the night, which was usual, Daniel was told, on mail day. Privately, Daniel thought that it was simply the exuberant Mac's fondness for kicking back that turned every available situation into an excuse to have fun.

Daniel had been calmed by the exercise he'd done that day, but was feeling tired and so slipped away from the singing early. As he was heading back to the tent, he thought he saw movement by the dig. Frowning, he looked closer, and adrenaline sped into his system.

Moving closer to the tent he opened the flap and walked in. Tobe and an undergraduate - Kate - jumped away from each other. They were both looking more than a little hot and bothered, and it was obvious to Daniel what they had been up to.

"Sorry," said Daniel, grabbing his staff and the gun.

"What's that for?" asked Tobe, seeing the weapon for the first time. Kate's eyes were wide.

"Nothing," Daniel answered. "I thought I saw someone sneaking around by the dig. Probably just an animal or something, but I'm going to check it out."

The thought of someone illegally sneaking into the dig to steal the recovered artifacts had the embarrassed flush fading from the faces of both young people, and replaced with grim resolve. "I'm coming with you," said Tobe determinedly.

"I'll go tell Mac," said Kate, darting out of the tent toward the fire.

"Are you sure?" asked Daniel, looking Tobe over. The other man nodded grimly.

Daniel tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, where he could easily get at it, and hefted the staff.

"What are you going to do with that?" asked Tobe, eyeing the staff.

"Walk softly and carry a big stick," Daniel replied moving out of the tent.

"Roosevelt," Tobe replied, a grin lighting his face as he caught the paraphrasing of the famous quote.

"Follow me."

The two moved quickly and quietly toward the dig, unobtrusively using the tents and trees for cover. As they got closer, it was apparent that there were two men, dressed in black, moving toward the camp from the dig site. Daniel frowned. Anyone after artifacts would be staying in the central dig area. Which argued that these men were searching for something else.

The NID had finally come calling.

Tamping down his anger, Daniel hissed, "Stay here!" to Tobe.

He quickly circled around the outer rim of the dig, making for the man farthest from their truck. Daniel came upon him from behind and slammed the butt of the staff against his head. The man was out cold before he hit the dirt. Daniel dragged him around the opposite side of the truck, and grabbed rope from where it was holding up one side of a small tent. The canvas collapsed, but within minutes the man was securely tied.

Daniel was sneaking toward the second NID operative when the stadium lighting abruptly turned on. His night-sight was destroyed and he hit the ground behind a wall, blinking furiously to be able to see without spots dancing in his vision.

He peered over the wall and swore.

The man had found Tobe, and - knowing that he was caught - was holding his gun on the young man. Tobe was four feet away from a bullet aimed dead-center on his heart.

"Put away the gun," came Mac's voice, strong and authoritative. "No one has to get hurt!"

The man said nothing, and Daniel knew that unless he was seen, the man would kill Tobe.

Standing, Daniel moved out from behind the wall, his arms out to both sides. The NID man saw him, and his aim shifted from Tobe to Daniel.

"Go, Tobe," said Daniel calmly, approaching the NID operative. Eyes wide, the graduate student backed away, moving quickly so that soon he had disappeared in the palm grove. The remainder of the adults were still ringed - behind cover - above the excavated pit in which Daniel and the man were standing.

"Dr. Jackson," the man said.

"What do you want?" Daniel asked, knowing well what he would be asked.

"I'd like to extend to you an offer to work in Area 51," the man said simply. "If you say yes, I can assure you both ample pay as well as other . . . benefits."

"And if I say no?" asked Daniel, shifting his grip ever so slightly on the staff.

"I can assure you will not like the results," the man said simply. The deadness in his voice and eyes scared Daniel.

Without further conversation, Daniel moved. He threw himself toward the man's feet, twisting so that he landed on his back on the ground, swiping up and out with the staff. The wood impacted the man's arm and the gun discharged before it went flying. A snap assured Daniel that the man's arm was broken.

Shouting, the man jumped toward Daniel as he rolled to his feet, unable to do anything other than brace himself. He was crouched when the man impacted his left side, and he felt his left shoulder dislocate.

Gasping, Daniel rolled backwards and over on his right shoulder, using his feet to neatly toss the man over his head to the ground. Daniel pushed himself from where he ended up on his knees to his feet, grabbing his staff and racing for the gun. Unable to use his left arm, hanging limply by his side, the archaeologist yelled, "Mac!" and threw the staff as hard as he could over the top edge of the dig.

He was tackled as he dove for the gun. Struggling with the attacker, Daniel felt his head slam into the ground and blackness threatened at the edges of his vision. Sweeping with his legs, Daniel reached out frantically with his right hand, and felt cool metal under his fingers. Grasping the gun, he gave an almighty shout, pushing the man off him. Rolling to his feet once more, ignoring the pounding in his head and nausea swirling in his gut, Daniel kept his aim steady on the NID operative.

The man, bleeding from the lip and the temple, raised his hands.

Daniel glanced around for someone - anyone - to help, and saw the relief on the faces of the teachers change to horror in the second the man charged him.

Daniel pulled the trigger on reflex, and the report sounded through the air. The NID man fell at his feet.

Daniel backed away slowly, and someone came up on his other side. Louie's voice echoed softly in his ear. "Daniel? Are you all right?"

"Check him," Daniel said hollowly, the gun still aimed at the man on the ground.

Galya was the next one into the dig, and she moved over the man, feeling for a pulse. "He's alive," she said in shock, and Daniel lowered the gun, handing it to Louie.

"Eject the clip," he said, feeling wrung out. Daniel turned to face the stone wall they had been excavating.

"He's unconscious," Galya said, continuing to examine him. "I think he was wearing Kevlar."

"He needs a doctor," said Ziv.

"He's going to need a lawyer," said Mac grimly. He was holding onto the staff like grim death. Daniel had intended to have Mac help him double-team the agent, but it had ended up being all for the best that there was only one weapon in the pit, and Daniel had gotten his hands on it first. In their close quarters, it was simply best that there was no weapon the agent could have used against him.

Daniel was still staring at the wall. He could feel his own gun pressing at his back, now that the adrenaline was leaving his system and the pain was making itself fully known. That was funny - he'd completely forgotten he had a gun the moment he saw the danger to Tobe.

"Daniel? Are you all right?" came Michelle's voice.

"In a minute," he said tightly. Before he could think about it any longer, Daniel slammed his left shoulder against the wall, popping his joint back into the socket.

A strangled gasp escaped him and he slumped to his knees.

"Daniel? Daniel!"

There were people around him, voices, calling - Daniel lifted his forehead from where he had been resting it against the wall.

Holding his left arm carefully to his chest, he stood shakily. "I'm okay," he said.

"You're whiter than a ghost," Tobe informed him. "What happened?"

"Shoulder," Daniel winced. "Was dislocated."

"_Was?_" Mac was incredulous.

Daniel had seen Jack do something similar on one occasion, several years ago. He'd seen how much it had hurt, and had hoped that he would never have to do anything like it.

"Was. How's he?" Daniel gestured to the unconscious operative, turning the attention from himself.

"He must have ducked at the last second," Galya responded. "As far as I can tell, the bullet passed through his shoulder, taking a bit of the scapula with it. He needs to get to the hospital in Jerusalem. He's loosing a lot of blood."

Daniel nodded. "All right then. Let's get him back to the pavilion, patch him up. And he has a friend, tied up behind the truck." Daniel pointed toward the dark pickup parked unobtrusively on the edge of the dig. "He should be awake soon."

"Well, then," said Louie. "Why don't we get you somewhere you can lay down for a minute? Looks like you banged your head up good too."

"Concussion," Daniel murmured. "Had one before." The memorable Antarctica incident, where he had been thrown out of the wormhole onto the ramp so hard that he'd almost been knocked into next week. And more since then - more than he cared to think about.

Louie helped him out of the pit while Mac took charge of the wounded agent and Tobe organized the students to help him find a place for the other NID operative, where he could be tied and conveniently kept out of the way until the authorities arrived.

Daniel stayed with the unconscious man, insisting that he be tied despite the fact that he was wounded and probably wouldn't be able to move. Galya was leery of the idea, but Mac backed him up, and so the operative was tied.

Tobe came into the tent as they were finishing up. "The other guy's awake," he told Mac. "What should we do?"

"He's conscious?" Daniel asked, a little fuzzy himself. Galya had made him a makeshift sling, in which his left arm was resting.

Tobe nodded.

"Who has the gun?" asked Daniel. Louis pulled it out of his pocket, holding it carefully by the handle as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "Bag it," he said. "Fingerprint evidence, no matter that we all touched it. There still might be something there."

Tobe nodded again, lifting the gun from Louie using two fingertips. Daniel reached for his own weapon, pulling it out and checking the clip.

"You're not going to shoot him, are you?" asked Louie, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel snorted. "I wish. No, I'm just going to see how far he'll let me intimidate him." He lifted his arm carefully out of the sling.

"What are you doing?" asked Galya, voice stern as she looked over from the other side of her bleeding patient and saw what he was doing.

"How intimidating is a man with his arm in a sling?" Daniel asked, keeping his voice light. God, he hated what he was about to do.

"About as intimidating as a man who looks like he's going to pass out at the slightest provocation," the Latin teacher returned snappishly.

Daniel grinned. "I'll be a good boy and put it back on right away," he promised, trying and failing to sound innocent.

Galya chuckled at the effort and said, "Mac, go with him. Ah!" She raised her voice in an almost Jack-like mannerism that got Daniel's mouth snapping shut in reflex response. "If you faint in there, ten to one that heathen will just let you lie until we come looking. Mac?"

"I'll take care of him," the Scotsman replied.

Daniel just shook his head slowly, and left the tent. In contrast to the strength of his tone, his every movement was careful and slow. "You going to be all right, Daniel?" asked Mac, his voice low and concerned.

Daniel bit his tongue, curbing the snappish retort waiting on his lips. "Not in the next five minutes. But yes, I will be."

The two men entered the tent silently, and the man looked up at them.

"_Tell the professor to go away,_" the man commanded in Goa'uld.

Daniel laughed bitterly. "Showing off the advances of the NID's linguistics department?" he asked. The archeologist glanced at the prisoner and said, "I doubt he'd leave if I asked him."

The man snorted. "Then I will tell you nothing," he responded in English.

"And yet you would talk to me in private?" Daniel mused. "Most probably to extend to me the same offer your partner did."

"The offer still stands, Dr. Jackson," the man retorted. Daniel felt Mac stiffen beside him.

"And if I said no?"

"That is not an option. One way or another, you _will_ work for us."

Daniel stared thoughtfully at the man, and then pulled the gun from his back pocket, turning it contemplatively in his long-fingered hands.

"I'm wondering," he murmured, "which knee you'll lose first. The right, or the left." Daniel pointed the barrel of the gun at each knee in turn. His face was an impassive, emotionless mask, his voice light and dangerous.

"You are a scholar, Dr. Jackson," the man said confidently. "You are a pacifist. You do not harm, you protect."

"And using that logic, the best way for me to protect those on this dig would be to eliminate you," Daniel mused, his voice still contemplative, light. Yet there was an unmistakable element of danger in his stance.

"I am not afraid to die," the man said proudly.

"Who ever said you would die?" Daniel asked, pretending at surprise. "There are nine bullets left in this gun. One for each knee, hand, foot - and then three extra. Shoulders, maybe? Or elbows . . . perhaps one of your vertebrae, severing the spinal cord. By the time you reached the hospital in Jerusalem, there'd be barely anything left of you the doctors wouldn't have to amputate. Infection sets in so quickly, especially when there's only limited first aid available. It can be quite . . . debilitating."

The man's face had paled considerably as Daniel spoke. He had obviously not been expecting the soft-spoken, pacifistic scholar to know how to play this game, and was not prepared for the cold face of death that met him.

Daniel smiled gently at the man, whose eyes widened further. "Think on that," Daniel said softly, standing and leaving the tent. Mac followed him soundlessly.

Daniel moved quickly, long legs striding away from the tent toward the palm grove. His stomach lurched, and Daniel dropped to his knees behind a tree. Leaning over, he heaved, vomiting.

His head was pounding, tears streaming down his face as his stomach clenched. He spat bile on to the ground, finally finished after minutes of dry heaving. He moved away from the mess, curling into a ball and rocking slowly as he sobbed.

He felt a hand on his back and pulled away, still crying. The hand returned, soothing, rubbing in comforting circles as he wept, gasping and trying to stay silent. "Shhh, shhhh," he heard.

Looking up, Daniel wiped ineffectually at his face. "Mac?" he asked, voice muffled as he spoke into his knees.

"Yes," came the Scotsman's quiet voice.

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, barely able to hear over the pounding in his skull.

"Let's get you to bed," Mac suggested, and Daniel nodded tiredly. "Everything else can wait until morning."

Daniel stood shakily, and Mac helped him to his tent, bringing him some water as he got settled. "You might have a concussion," Mac said, quietly concerned. "I'll have one of the students check in on you every hour."

Daniel grunted, lying back carefully.

Mac zipped the tent flap shut as he left, leaving a small lantern lit in the tent. Despite the light, darkness enveloped Daniel the moment he closed his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -- ---

Alright, here's an extra-long chapter for you. I felt guilty about disappearing without warning, and so am posting this now.

The situation is looking grim. Between ffnet's new policy on "acceptable format" which posed a slight problem this morning, and my impending familial kidnapping, the next chapter may be several days. I can guarantee inside a week, however, despite my enforced family bonding. (shudders). This may be a position not even chocolate can improve. Fudge, perhaps . . . and I happen to have some handy . . . (grins) Ah, obstacles make life fun! Enjoy!


	16. Chapter 16

Someone's hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. Daniel opened his eyes to find Tobe staring worriedly down at him.

"Whazzat?" Daniel managed. He'd been woken every hour for the past eight with a ruthless regularity that had done absolutely nothing for his rest and recuperation.

"Sorry," Tobe said. "We were gonna let you sleep but - there're people here. They choppered in about an hour ago, but Galya refused to wake you up until she had to. I think she was shocked you slept through it."

"People?" Daniel asked, his mind muzzy as he fixed on the word.

"An older dude, a big black guy, and a blond chick," Tobe informed him.

Daniel sat up and covered his face with his hand. "No," he muttered. He could have dealt with it - but now he would have to deal with them, face to face.

"Yes," Tobe countered. He had a mug of coffee in one hand, and said, "Galya said you could have it if you were good, and wore your sling."

Daniel shoved ineffectually at the cumbersome sleeping bag, focused on the mug in Tobe's hand. "Gimme."

"Nope," the grad student said. "Sling first."

"You're enjoying this," Daniel accused. Tobe just grinned. Daniel grumpily maneuvered his arm into the sling, shoved his feet into his shoes and made his way out of the tent. He felt filthy, and knew that he looked it. There was still blood in his hair, and he would bet that his entire left side was one massive bruise.

"Mac's in the pavilion, stalling them and ripping them each a new one for choppering in without warning. The dust played hell with some of the trickier bits of the excavation," he finished, lips twisting angrily.

Daniel sighed wearily. Better to get this over with, then.

He walked next to Tobe, trying to ignore the concerned looks the younger man was giving him on the way to the pavilion. He could hear Mac before he could see him, shouting loudly.

"What, _exactly_, made you think that you could fly a chopper into a sensitive dig site? Not only does it show a _complete_ lack of concern for the delicate work of others, you didn't even have the _courtesy_ to try to hail us and warn us of your approach. _What_ makes you think that your presence is required here? What -"

"Mac," said Daniel, making his way into the pavilion where all the students were crouched over their breakfasts, shooting death glares to the members of SG-1, who were being thoroughly chewed out by Professor Macauly in all his glory.

"Daniel," said Mac, never taking his eyes off the people in front of him. "These people have been asking for a Dr. Daniel Jackson. Know him?"

"Professor Macauly," Daniel said. "May I introduce Murray, Major Samantha Carter, and Colonel Jack O'Neill, US Air Force. My - former colleagues." Sam's face paled at the distinction, and Teal'c took on a wooden look. Pain flashed through Jack's eyes, before it was quickly concealed.

"Under the circumstances," Mac began. Daniel took a sip of his coffee, and sputtered indignantly. He spat it out on the ground, turned toward the rest of the pavilion, which was looking on with interest, and shouted, "Galya!"

A single head rose from the teacher's table located conveniently across the length of the tent, and out of immediate reach. "Yes, Daniel?" For someone who hated the morning, her voice was disgusting cheerful.

"_Decaf?_" The word left his lips like a curse, and his temper was not improved by the grin he could see clear across the tent.

"Concussion," she sang back.

Daniel snarled ineffectually, stomping rather than walking to the pots in the chow line. "They're _all_ decaf," mourned a nearby student.

"Really," Daniel stated, his eyes locked on the teacher's table. "War, Galya, war," he hissed. The student winced.

He could hear Mac sniggering behind him, and shot a glare at the Professor that had him laughing outright.

Daniel settled for a cup of orange juice and some toast, and made his way to the teacher's table. Noting the people following him, he grasped the edge of a table and dragged it one-handed across the dirt to extend the surface space available.

"Allow me, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c, picking up the table and positioning it next to the one where the Professors were eating. At the intrusion of the military on their turf, the teachers pulled back behind the secure fortifications of their trays and cutlery. In their turn, the members of SG-1 stayed far back from the scholars, Jack occupying a position at the end of the table, directly opposed by Mac.

Daniel was left in the middle, once again to act as mediator. He gave a silent sigh, and opened his mouth.

"Concussion, Danny?" asked Jack, cutting him off.

"Don't call me that," said Daniel, voice devoid of emotion, hands still. Mac looked at him worriedly. "NID," Daniel continued. "Two of their men came to the dig last night. We have one of them tied up in a tent just outside the palm grove. The other -" Daniel's face creased in confusion. "Mac, what happened to the other one?"

"Michelle, Ziv and Louie took him to the hospital in Jerusalem last night," Mac said carefully.

"Oh, right."

Jack and Sam exchanged glances. "They took him into the city?"

"He was bleeding out," Daniel snapped. "If he went anywhere, it happened after he was checked into the hospital and transfused."

"He couldn't stay here?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"He had lost a good amount of blood," Galya said abruptly. "We're prepared for almost anything out here. But we just don't have the expertise to deal with gunshot wounds."

"Gunshot wounds?" Teal'c asked, his voice low with displeasure.

"Dan - Daniel, what happened? From the top," Jack ordered.

Daniel sat back in his chair. "Saturday night, I was heading to the tent to go to sleep. I thought I saw someone moving by the dig, so I got Tobe and Kate, told them to tell Mac. Tobe decided to come with." He saw Tobe give him a grateful look. "There were two men. I approached the first one from behind and knocked him out. I was trying for the second when the stadium lights came on. He had Tobe in his sights, and so I traded places with him. I went for the gun once Tobe was out of the way, and it went flying. We beat up on each other for a bit. He dislocated my shoulder and gave me a concussion. I got hold of the gun and shot him."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Oh, and they want me to come and work for them. 'No' is apparently not in their vocabulary."

"What?" Came at least four shocked voices at once. Jack and Mac looked repulsed at finding themselves in agreement, but quickly got over it.

The buzz of voices rose, and Daniel slammed a hand against the tabletop. Surprised, the others slowly quieted. Daniel rubbed his head, and looked up into the concerned faces of Galya and Sam. "I need some air," he said quietly. He pushed his chair back, and left the pavilion.

He made his way across the dig, his ultimate goal the oasis and a bath. He heard feet pounding behind him. "Daniel!"

Jack. Why was Jack coming after him?

"What, Jack?" Daniel asked, not slowing down on his way down the slope.

"Slow down for a minute, willya?"

Daniel stopped abruptly and turned toward him. "Jack, I spent all yesterday excavating the Essene site. Then, I got into a fight with NID agents, and was summarily tucked into bed and woken up every hour, on the hour, since. I'm tired, filthy and caffeine-deprived, I'm going to take a bath, and God better help you if you get in my way, because I sure won't. Having to listen to you and Mac butt horns before I'm even fully awake this morning has done _nothing_ for my temper," he snarled.

Daniel took a deep breath, rubbing his pounding head. "I'm sorry," he said quietly a moment later. "It's been - a long, never-ending day."

"It's all right," said Jack soothingly. "Trust me, I understand."

Daniel found himself looking into Jack's eyes and seeing something that he'd been looking for, and unable to find, for a year now. Caring. Friendship. Concern.

He turned away, unwilling to let himself believe he wasn't imagining it. "Why are you here, Jack?" he asked tiredly, not in the mood to play games.

"Honestly?" asked Jack. "Hammond got word that the NID might try to make a move on you. Officially, we're here to act as a protective force. Unofficially - I want to apologize."

Daniel heard the last word and froze.

"Daniel?"

"Don't," he said tightly. He felt stretched thin, as if his whole world was a thin sheet of glass playing at being steel. "Whatever you have to say, I just - I can't hear it right now. Give me some time to get - all this - worked out. Please."

Jack nodded. "All right," he said softly. He followed Daniel to the tent, where the archaeologist bundled clothes and soap in his towel, twisting it into a makeshift sack that he slung over his good shoulder, before proceeding to the oasis.

When they reached the water, Daniel toes off his shoes and pulled his socks off. He unwound the sling, and then found that taking off his shirt was going to present a difficulty.

"Jack?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yea, Danny?"

The nickname slipped out, and Jack saw Daniel's face harden. "I'm going to have a little trouble with my shirt," he said stiffly.

"Oh. Sure. He dislocated your left shoulder?"

"Yea," Daniel grunted as Jack guided the shirt over his head, and down his stiff arm. The entirety of his shoulder and a good deal of his chest was stained with blue-black bruises, standing out obscenely on his skin. Jack sucked in a breath. "The back, too, huh?" asked Daniel wryly.

"God, it looks horrible," Jack said with a morbid interest. "Who un-dislocated it?"

"Me."

"You?"

"And a convenient wall in the excavation," Daniel admitted, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing both pants and boxers down in a smooth motion, moving into the water. He submerged briefly and stood, gasping happily. "Shampoo?" he asked.

With Jack tossing him the bottles he needed and intercepting them when he was done, Daniel managed to get clean without much trouble. After drying off and changing into clean underwear and pants, Jack helped him into a fresh button down shirt.

"What's this?" Jack asked, looking at a healing, vividly red scar that was almost hidden amid the bruising on his left arm.

"Our last mission," Daniel said without heat, pulling the sleeve up and settling the shirt on his shoulder. Daniel hissed as he carefully renegotiated his arm into the sling, and took a breath, squaring his shoulders.

Time to return to the pavilion, and deal with the inevitable questions there. First - he owed Mac and the others an explanation.

Once he reached the meal tent, he found the students gone, prospectively back to the dig. Jack took his cue from Sam and Teal'c, who were standing by the chopper, doing an inventory.

Daniel sat at the table and took a deep breath.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson," said Mac. Daniel couldn't read his expression.

"Yes," he said.

"Hmm. Galya? What do you think?"

Daniel glanced at the Latin professor. "A rose by any other name, Mac."

The Scotsman grinned. "Well, I do have to say that now a few of the more - intriguing aspects of your personality have cleared up nicely."

"Oh really?" asked Daniel, raising a brow.

"Your familiarity with digs across the globe," said Mac. "Being able to translate faster than Galya. Correctly identifying the site you discovered as Essene, on first try. Your - predilection for thinking outside the box." Mac ticked off each quality on a finger.

Daniel winced. "Yes, I know about that disaster in LA," Mac admitted freely. "I did read your paper though, and it was brilliant. You had very credible points, backed up with solid evidence. It just got lost in the blubbering of some excitable, over-exuberant bigots who really should have known better.

"But - I would like to know why you felt it necessary to change your name. And why you chose Nick Ballard, of all people," Mac added.

Daniel shrugged before he remembered that moving his shoulder might not be such a good idea. "I was jumped by an NID operative in Jerusalem," he admitted. "I didn't want to let anyone have an easy time finding me, so I played musical buses with my tickets, and then ended up walking out here. Too dangerous to rent a car, though it would have been faster. I thought it might be a good idea to change my name, but it had to be to something familiar, with a connection."

"Why Nick Ballard, then?" asked Galya.

Daniel stiffened. "He's - my maternal grandfather," he answered.

"Ah." Mac shrugged. "I didn't know."

Daniel replied, "It's - not common knowledge. Part of the reason why it was a good choice, at the time. Of course, it wouldn't have fooled anyone from the NID. But then, it didn't have to. Just had to keep me under the radar. And doubtless people would have talked if I'd let my somewhat infamous reputation precede me."

"No doubt about that," mused Galya. "I wonder how they found you? It's been months - why now?"

"Doubtless he'll talk once Jack and Teal'c get through with him," Daniel responded. "In all probability, they were systematically searching dig sites and got lucky." Daniel cocked his head to the side. "After all, where else would I go?"

Galya grinned. "Where else indeed."

"Desert bug," said Mac affectionately.

"Speaking of which." The smile faded from Daniel's face. "I'll understand if, for the safety of the students, you want me to leave."

Mac snorted. "Seems to me like you _are_ the safety of the students."

"Those men came after me," Daniel couldn't help pointing out.

"And you kept them from hurting Tobe. No, Dr. Jackson," said Mac with a wicked grin, "you're not running away from us. Now that I've got you in my clutches, I think we'll need to have a serious debate. Since I know that you're on the same page, if not one chapter ahead. "

Daniel blushed, and nodded. "If you're sure . . . ."

"Of course he's sure," said Galya. "He wouldn't have insisted if he wasn't."

"It may mean that the three people who arrived today stay a bit longer," Daniel added, though he himself didn't pin much hope on it.

"Hmm. That could be interesting." The devious twinkle was back. "They're on _my_ turf now," Mac mused.

"And God save their souls," Galya responded with a laugh. "Did you really work with them?" she asked, curious.

Daniel's face twisted. "Yes," he answered. "For several years."

Eyeing the unhappiness on the young archaeologist's face, Galya said gently, "Did they have anything to do with the reason you left?"

Daniel shuddered. "I - I don't think I can talk about it," he confessed. "I - I keep a journal, and things got so bad toward the end, I was wound so tight, that I couldn't even bring myself to write it down. As if that would make it real. That's never happened to me before. Even after my parents died, through all the foster homes, I could write it down, work it out on paper, decide what I felt about anything. But -" he shrugged. "I couldn't work this out. So many things went wrong, and it happened so slowly, that I didn't notice in time to fix it. I don't think they noticed until I had to leave."

"Why did you have to leave?" Galya asked softly. Daniel's hand was lying limp on the table, and she reached out to cover it with her own.

When he responded, the archaeologist's voice was wooden, his entire bearing stiff. "We were stuck in a tight situation. I had a choice. I could live with their deaths on my head, or I could kill an innocent man in cold blood, just because he was honor-bound to represent his people. I chose."

Daniel shook his head, self-loathing in every line of his body. "It shouldn't have even come to that. But it's over, done with."

"Not for you," said Mac, with surprising gentleness. Daniel started, having forgotten that he was there. "You still don't know how you feel about it, do you?"

Daniel shook his head, staring at the tabletop. "No," he whispered. He'd locked it all away, behind the high, strong wall inside of him. He'd pushed it down deep, just trying to move on. But now - the NID attack was dragging it all to the surface, and Daniel wasn't sure he would be able to weather this emotional storm. "No, I don't."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(looks around furtively) Snuck online today to post this, thanks so much for all the responses, they're all that's keeping me going now . . . (shrieks in fear at emminent discovery, cowers under desk) Gotta go! Hope you like!


	17. Chapter 17

Jack turned to Sam and Teal'c.

"What now, sir?" Carter asked. They were all huddled by the chopper, needing time to regroup after their hectic arrival, and Daniel's disturbing 'debriefing' of the situation.

Jack shrugged. "We deal with the NID first."

"What about Daniel Jackson?" asked Teal'c. "I perceive that we have much to repair in our relationship with him."

"Don't I know it, T," Jack sighed. "But the only thing we can do now is try to help. And not crowd him. Just - let him get used to the fact that we're here, and we're not going anywhere."

"We're not going to abandon him again," Sam replied determinedly. Carter had come to grips with the situation when Daniel's resignation had been announced a month ago in the briefing room. She was, Jack mused, much smarter than him. He'd been unable to believe, and had pushed. Daniel had knocked him on his ass when he'd pushed back.

"I believe Daniel Jackson is coming," said Teal'c, his eyes on the tent.

Daniel was headed their way. The month in the desert had been good for him. He was tanned and strong, his hair lightened by the sun. Jack had seen the scar, though, and knew that Daniel wasn't quite healed from their last mission - in more ways than one.

"We tied him in one of the tents on the fringe of the excavation," Daniel said as he approached. "Ready?"

Jack and Sam checked their clips, and Daniel led them past the palm grove toward the oasis. Once they reached the tent, he motioned for SG-1 to precede him.

Daniel stayed outside, listening quietly as the inquiries, logic, and sheer menace of the members of SG-1 elicited nothing but a stony silence from the prisoner.

Daniel pushed the curtain of canvas aside several minutes later, to find the NID agent staring impassively around Teal'c's intimidating stature. Daniel didn't try to hide the fact that his arm was in a sling, no matter how much a show of strength would benefit him. Instead, he used the element of naked threat to his advantage.

Jack motioned Teal'c and Sam to the side of the tent, and they leant back, watching as Daniel slowly approached the prisoner.

In a shockingly sudden move, Daniel pulled out a gun, aimed it at the man's right knee, and pulled the trigger.

The NID operative flinched.

The hammer clacked down on an empty chamber.

"One warning," Daniel said quietly, into the tomblike silence. "Now, you will tell me what I need to know."

The sound of a bullet entering the chamber of the gun was loud in the silence.

The NID operative swallowed hard. "I - I don't know much."

"Talk." There was no give in that voice. Jack watched in astonishment as the operative began. There was something inexorable, undeniable, about Daniel's entire bearing. It was the utter lack of any type of emotion, he decided. Daniel devoid of his passion was an empty husk. Frightening, and unpredictable. He didn't like it. And from the looks on Sam's and Teal'c's faces, neither did they.

"Approximately six weeks ago, the NID came into the possession of an unusual artifact from off-world. It's a small cylinder, about six inches high and three in diameter. It's covered with writings, and we suspect that it may be some type of self-contained power source. However, the language is like nothing we've ever seen."

"Which is why you need Daniel," Jack interjected.

"If this item is what we believe it to be, it could make the naquahda generator Major Carter has developed look like a firecracker. There is an unknown potential for this artifact, which makes it vital for us to secure Dr. Jackson's expertise."

"How, exactly, did this artifact 'come into your possession'?" Daniel asked pointedly.

The man was silent. Daniel released the safety on the gun and aimed for the operative's left shoulder. "I believe it came through the SGC," the man said quickly. "I don't know anything more, I swear!"

Daniel turned and left, and Jack followed, leaving Sam and Teal'c to continue questioning the spy - but as the man would only talk to Daniel, he didn't have much hope for success.

Daniel was barely visible behind a tree, and as Jack approached, he could hear retching noises. Daniel spat, and kicked some dirt over the mess before turning toward the pavilion, with its water barrels.

"Danny? You okay?"

Daniel stiffened at the nickname, and then relaxed a little. "Yea. I'm fine." Which in Daniel-speak meant, 'I'm tired, sick, hurting, and feel like someone just had the good grace to tramp all over my last vestiges of self-worth, but as long as there's no obvious arterial bleeding, I'm okay'.

"Really."

Daniel glanced at Jack, who was walking beside him toward the food tent. He ducked his head, staring at the ground, and said, "I hate having to - to -"

"Interrogate?" Jack's voice was uncommonly gentle.

Daniel looked away. "I hate what I've become able to do," he whispered, and hurried toward the pavilion.

Jack stopped still, surprised at the wealth of unhappiness in those few words. Daniel hated himself - hated who he'd become. And much of who he'd become had been because of Jack. Suddenly feeling ill, Jack silently followed Daniel as he got a cup of water, and sat down at the deserted professor's table.

"It's unlikely that the prisoner knows much more than what he's already told us," Jack said quietly into the silence.

"It's doubtful that his accomplice knows anything either," Daniel sighed, seemingly accepting Jack's presence.

"What do you think about this - artifact?"

"Really?" Daniel asked. "I think it's a red herring. What the man said suggests that there is at least one undercover NID agent in the SGC, maybe more."

"Not again," Jack groaned, burying his face in his forearms. His nose was pressed to the tabletop.

"But even if this thing is some sort of power source, not being able to read the instruction manual has never stopped the NID before. They usually just fiddle around with the hope that they don't blow Earth out of orbit."

"Peachy," Jack growled.

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Daniel?" Jack asked.

The archaeologist looked up. "Jack?"

"I want to apologize," Jack said bluntly, ignoring the speed with which Daniel's face whitened. "I'm sorry." Jack's face was contrite, his eyes dark with sadness. "After you left, I started to realize a few things. How much work you did on the Stargate Program, how much work you were always doing to just keep the place running. I didn't realize -"

Daniel pushed away from the table and stood, breathing hard. He turned and started walking, away from the dig, out toward the scrub that consumed the space between the site and the road to Masada.

"Dammit, Daniel," Jack murmured. He shoved to his feet and started after the archaeologist. Daniel broke into a run, and Jack had to sprint to keep up. Daniel certainly hadn't lost any of his speed in the last month.

Jack chased Daniel across the scrub, and took his chance when the archaeologist stumbled over a rock, tackling him. They went down hard, panting harshly in the dust. Daniel tried to shove himself upright to find Jack lying half on top of him.

"No," Jack grunted. "You're going to hear me out. Daniel, please!"

Daniel stopped struggling, sucking in a breath as the pain from his bruised shoulder hit him when his adrenaline washed away.

Jack sat back, keeping a careful eye on the impulsive linguist. Daniel pushed himself into a sitting position, curling in on himself. "I started thinking back," Jack said quietly. "A few things I'd ignored at the time popped back up, and I realized what I'd been doing to you - to us. To the team.

"I saw what happened during the NID stint," Jack continued quietly. Daniel's face was impassive. "I knew right where your weak spot was, and I went for it, no holds barred. I knew you'd understand why, when I got the chance to explain. But when I saw your face - I couldn't believe that it could hurt you so much. And I hated it," Jack admitted freely. "I hated that it was so easy to take you apart.

"I knew that there was something _off_ after that, but I didn't know what it was. Then the zatarc thing - that was hard. I realized something in that room. Yea, I cared for Carter, but it was no different than the way I cared for Teal'c. It was different from the way I cared for you." Jack flinched, the words coming out with difficulty.

"I'm not good at this talk-touchy-feely-stuff, but - how could I make the tough calls when I cared so much? I - I saw how much I hurt you. And I kept thinking, why does he feel so much? How can he? SG-1 is family. We've always been close - it was a weakness."

Daniel stared at him, and buried his face in his knees.

"So -" Jack swallowed. Daniel had his good arm wrapped around his legs, his injured one pulled into his chest. He was incredibly still, but he was listening. "I started to push you away. I - I didn't see how caring, as much as I did, couldn't be used against me. And I couldn't stand to see you get hurt, over and over. It scared the hell out of me."

"You shut me down, Jack," Daniel's voice was muffled by his knees. He raised his head and Jack was horrified to see tears sliding down his face. "You shut me down, and you shut me out. I did care - maybe too much. I loved you all - and suddenly you were using that as a weapon against me. I didn't know what to do - I just wanted to fix it. But every time I tried, something got in the way. And then you pulled away, and somehow, Sam and Teal'c pulled with you. It was just me, trying to fix it, and then you wouldn't even _listen_ - "

Daniel choked on a sob, burying his face again, whole body shaking. "I _killed_ him," Daniel whispered. "I - I tried to make you listen, but you shut me down! I had to kill him!"

"The priest," Jack murmured in comprehension.

"I've never liked killing," Daniel said, gulping into his knees as he tried to regain control. The wall that held back his emotions was splintering, and he didn't know how much more he could take. "But - it was there, in his eyes. He had no choice - and neither did I! I couldn't do anything else, because you took my choices away, Jack!"

Daniel suddenly felt arms go round him, crushing him as Jack grabbed him and hugged him hard. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Danny, I didn't mean - I'm sorry, so sorry . . ." Jack was rambling, his voice choked with tears of his own.

For the first time in months, Daniel felt someone hold him, and the wall split open. He sobbed hard, pushing a fist against his mouth, he and Jack clinging to one another as they tried to ride out the sorrow.

When Daniel's tears finally stopped, his head was pounding and he wiped his face before looking up. Jack was gazing down at him with a look of such profound sorrow on his tear-tracked face that Daniel winced.

"Daniel, are we - do you think we can get past this?" Jack asked quietly.

"I don't know," Daniel replied, his voice small and sad. "Things will never be like they were. All we can do is go forward."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm baaaaack!! (bounces around) YAYAY!! I'm also hungry. Please feed me! (lembas7 drools for reviews)


	18. Chapter 18

Jack sat at the campfire, a rare feeling of age and melancholy weighing on him. The damage was bad, he reflected. Daniel had been so hurt - by all of them. But Jack most of all. Jack's eyes turned to the individual in question. He was lying midway between the academics, on one side of the fire, and the military, on the other - completely ignoring both groups.

He was sprawled in the coarse crabgrass, his journal lying open in front of him. From where he was sitting, Jack could see that the page was blank - not even dated, from what he could tell.

Jack glanced at the academics. Ziv, Louie and Michelle had returned late that afternoon, in time for supper. The other NID agent was in the hospital ICU, with various tubes stuck in his body. He wasn't going anywhere without the proper medical treatment, and in Jack's opinion the NID was welcome to him. Even so, it wasn't likely that they'd take him back after his screw-up in Ein Gedi.

The mood was pensive. SG-1 were all focused on Daniel, trying not to look as if they were excessively concerned. The teachers were openly worried. Daniel had been worn out and withdrawn ever since he and Jack had walked back to the dig in midmorning. He was rubbing his temples often, and moving stiffly. Jack remembered that it was only the night before that he'd fought off the NID single handed, and had the bruises to show for it. He remembered with guilt tackling Daniel, and the exhausting talk they'd had. He still wasn't sure of what to do. He'd pulled, rather than pushed at Daniel, and the archaeologist had splintered regardless, the inner barriers against the intensity of his own emotion pulled down, leaving him at the mercy of the full force of his pain.

But Jack had the unhappy feeling that they'd only begun to delve into Daniel's complicated emotions. He'd been hit by the full force of his friends' - his _family's_ betrayal today. But so much more had happened to him this year. The death of Sha'uri most prominently, in Jack's mind.

Daniel sighed softly, the tiny noise almost lost amid the crackling of logs and a sudden shower of sparks tossed into the air by the fire. Jack found himself looking at the young archaeologist, and noticed Mac looking as well. Daniel stood slowly, bid everyone a quiet good-night, and disappeared into the darkness, moving toward his tent. Tobe quickly excused himself and followed.

Jack moved over to where Daniel had been lying. To his muted surprise, Mac joined him.

"What happened today?" The Scotsman was unusually subdued.

Jack knew the feeling. "Daniel and I - talked. A lot of things were said that should have been said a long time ago."

"I figured something like that," Mac said quietly. "It's the ones you love that can hurt you the most. The lad's nursing a powerful hurt."

Love? Jack pondered the word. Yes, he realized with some shock. That was the only word that could describe it. Daniel loved them, from the core of his very being. And Jack realized with a little wonder that he loved Daniel as well, the tie binding them closer than ever before.

"He was hurting when he came here," the professor continued. With the firelight dancing over his face and his wild hair frizzed out by the humidity, he looked like an ancient soothsayer. "He was always sad, even when he was happy. It runs deep, and I think there's more hurt there than you're responsible for," Mac said observantly. His green eyes, focused on the flames, were sharp with insight. "Not that you haven't done your share. But I think this healing will be a long time in coming."

"For Daniel's sake, I hope not," Sam murmured. She'd been listening to their conversation for the past few minutes.

Mac glanced at her. "He told us something of how he came here."

Sam winced. "Our actions forced him into a situation he should never have been in," she said. "He did everything he could to avoid the -"

"The killing," Jack interrupted, not sparing anyone, including himself, from the truth. "We started a chain of events that led to him having to chose someone else's life over ours. Someone he knew, and empathized with. Daniel killed him."

Mac's eyes narrowed. "He said something about having to chose. Nothing about killing per se."

Jack sighed. "I was certain we were all going to die. But he fought - I haven't asked him yet about when, and how he learned. The time just hasn't been right."

"No wonder he's hurting," Mac murmured. "He couldn't even stomach pretending to be a heartless bastard just to intimidate that killer tied up in the tent over there." Mac waved a hand vaguely toward the dig. Jack said softly, "Yea, he was sick after we interrogated the prisoner this morning."

Mac turned sharp eyes on Jack. "Maybe you see what everything has cost him now."

Jack flared defensively. "I've seen him endure things you wouldn't believe, given the chance. I've seen him fall apart, and I've been there to help him put the pieces back together. Don't you lecture me about what this has cost him!" Jack threw up his hands in frustration.

"Then tell me, _Colonel_," Mac said, "when did you stop being his friend? Stop helping him put himself back together? Because the man sleeping in that tent isn't broken, but he's damn close!"

Jack sat back. "I never stopped being his friend. But I - I thought I knew what was best for him, and I screwed up."

Mac thought for a moment. "No kidding," he said pensively. "But I'm not about to let you do it again. We all know where good intentions lead," he finished darkly.

Tobe's quiet return broke the somber quietude. "He's sleeping," Tobe said to Mac's inquiring look.

"He has a concussion," Galya interrupted. "We woke him every hour last night. Do we have to do that again?" It had made a miserable night for everyone, Daniel not least of all.

"No," said Sam. "He needs his rest, and he was up all day with the regular headache when by rights he should have been taking it easy. There's no danger of him slipping into a coma."

"Are you a doctor or something?" asked Louie, intrigued.

Sam snorted. "No. But we have a lot of field experience."

"I take it that injuries are common in your line of work, then," said Galya. Her face was inscrutable.

"You have no idea," Jack murmured, conscious of the archaeologist gently prying for more information. "All right, then. Carter, first watch?" She nodded. "Murray, you want the dawn shift?" Teal'c bowed his head slightly. "That leaves me on graveyard rotation," Jack said cheerfully. "Let's get some sleep, campers."

He stood up and Sam walked with him to the chopper. "No doubt these people are worried for Daniel and mean well," Jack said in a low voice as they moved to the chopper. "But they have questions we can't answer. Don't let their attitude fool you - there are some clever people here. I wouldn't want to try to put one over on Mac." Jack gave a false shudder.

Sam made a snorting, choked noise.

"O'Neill," said Teal'c. His posture was stiff. "I believe that you conversed at length with Daniel Jackson today."

Jack sobered immediately. "Yes," he said simply. "I followed him when he left the tent after he interrogated the NID agent."

"I found his behavior during the questioning most disturbing," Teal'c said slowly.

"I would never have though Daniel could do something like that," Sam agreed, sadness coloring the words.

"He threw up," Jack admitted. "I went with him to get a drink of water. Daniel thinks that the artifact the NID has is just a distraction. And there might be a member of the NID in the SGC."

"Not again," Carter muttered. "What else?"

Jack shrugged. He really didn't want to disclose what happened next, so he decided to skate along the truth and hope Carter was perceptive enough not to pry. "I apologized. He didn't take it well. We - talked, a bit."

"Ah." Carter nodded. By this time they had reached the chopper, and Carter pulled out her MP-5. "I'm going to walk the perimeter."

Jack and Teal'c nodded, and started to bunk down in the chopper itself, more as a failsafe against NID sabotage or theft than for comfort.

"Goodnight sir, Teal'c."

"Goodnight, Carter."

"I wish you an uneventful watch, Major Carter."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A second gift for you, seeing as how it's 1:32 am, and I'm only now able to log in. Technical difficulties, indeed. I'm also pseudo-apologizing for my absence, and thanking my faithful reviewers, at least two of which were devastated by the delay. (puppy eyes beg for forgiveness) On the upside, dealing with rodents, bugs, and the great outdoors deciding to come indoors inspired me to have serious bonding time with my laptop's annoying "WordPerfect" program, which is anything but. Translation - I had hit a snag that I was hesitant to mention, but now have it straightened out! (4 days with only "Solitaire" for company will do that to you . . . )


	19. Chapter 19

Daniel was vaguely aware of shifting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable.

__

He looked into Senichi's eyes, and in that moment, understood. Senichi accepted his defeat, knew that his life was ended even should Daniel show him mercy, and stop the battle here. It mattered not. He was sworn to this course, following in the tradition of his father. There was no graceful capitulation. Only honor, and those sworn to serve it. He knew, and his life was forfeit to his honor, and his goddess.

The fight was not yet over. Daniel gazed deeply into Senichi's face, and the priest nodded slightly. In one swift, strong move, Daniel slashed his blade -

Daniel's eyes flew open as his body jerked in reaction. He found his breathing harsh and ragged, his heart pumping frantically, adrenaline coursing through his system.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up, shoving the sleeping bag away. It was dark, the silence in the tent broken only by Tobe's soft snores and his own irregular gasps.

Daniel slid quietly off the camp cot, and padded over to his boots, sitting by the entrance flap. Checking inside the shoes for any unfriendly wildlife, he then stuffed his feet into his boots and left the tent, making his way toward the campfire.

Stumbling over his undone laces, Daniel dropped onto a log by the fire, and a pot on the flames caught his attention. Someone was brewing coffee. Inhaling deeply, Daniel smiled. Regular, not decaf. Amen.

He looked around, and saw no one present as of yet, but there were several cups sitting by the fire-pit. Using the bottom of his shirt as padding, Daniel poured some coffee into one of the cups and sipped slowly. It tasted very familiar.

A figure approached from the north, visible in the faint illumination that was eclipsing the starlight. Teal'c. Daniel nodded to the Jaffa as he approached, and sat nearby.

"Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said after a moment.

"Teal'c."

"I feel that I have failed you," the Jaffa said bluntly. "I have not acted as a true friend to you, and for that I am ashamed."

"Teal'c," Daniel said, worried for the other, "did there ever come a time, in any of our missions, that you weren't there for me when I needed your help?" Without giving the Jaffa a chance to reply, Daniel continued. "You have always done everything you can to help me, and you have always been a good friend to me."

"Then why did you feel you had little worth to SG-1 and the SGC?" Teal'c asked. "I could see the rift between yourself and O'Neill, and yet I did nothing. Many times I did not give you the support you required when you were correct and O'Neill was in the wrong. Have you not told me of the phrase, 'In silence, they shout?' "

"Cicero," Daniel murmured. The phrase had been used in one of his many orations against the conspirator Cataline, who had been planning to usurp the Roman government. The phrase itself condemned the lack of action on the part of the senators who did not speak out against Cataline, for their very silence itself screamed support of the would-be dictator.

Daniel made a wry face, acknowledging the truth of Teal'c's statement. "You couldn't do anything about the problem between Jack and me," Daniel replied quietly, taking each one of Teal'c's points into consideration. "That is between us. And yes, several times I did feel betrayed when neither you nor Sam would say anything to support me. But I was also glad that you didn't come right out and take sides."

"I do not understand this, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied.

Daniel winced slightly. How to explain this? How to explain the relief that while neither Sam nor Teal'c spoke out with him, they didn't speak out against him, either? How to explain the cutting pain when their silence ensured that they weren't on his side anyway?

"You didn't support me, Teal'c, but neither did you undermine me," Daniel said simply. "You and Sam knew that the real problem was between myself and Jack, and you didn't want to get involved. Jack used your silence against me, and I let him," Daniel sighed. "But none of it was your fault."

The Jaffa nodded, and Daniel could clearly see that his feelings on the subject had not changed. "I would ask that you forgive my negligence towards your friendship."

Daniel flinched. He had known that was coming. "Teal'c, sometimes things just happen." Daniel knew this wasn't coming out right, but he had to try. "Friendship is always something that needs to be worked at. Some friendships, like with Jack and me, take a bit more work. Some, like ours, just need a little bit of patching from time to time. There's nothing to forgive, Teal'c. We just - we have to work on it."

The Jaffa's face cleared, and comprehension swiftly overtook the clouded unhappiness that had wreathed his frame. "I believe I understand, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel sipped at his coffee, more at ease now. His friendship with Teal'c, much like his friendship with Jack, defied all odds. To some, it was inconceivable that Daniel should ever be able to work closely with the man who had offered up his wife to the Goa'uld, and later killed her. But Daniel knew that Teal'c had had no choice in those matters, forced by the situation into decisions that hurt others no matter the outcome. Daniel understood, and while he was only human, and had felt anger, he had let go of that emotion and come to know Teal'c. Once the bond had been forged, its strength had been surprising.

Daniel sipped the last of his coffee, and looked to the sky. Teal'c had taken his leave some time ago, in order to resume scouting the perimeter. Daniel had come to terms with the changes in his relationship with the big Jaffa, thinking his way around and through the issue as the sun gently rose into the sky.

Bringing the mug with him, Daniel returned to the tent to get dressed. Despite his still -unusable arm, he planned to get back to the Essene excavation, leaving the problem of the NID squarely in Jack's lap for now.

Once in the tent he managed to get dressed without needing help or waking Tobe, glaring at the sling as he struggled into it once more. Galya would rip him up one side and down the other for entering her sight without the cursed thing.

Putting his boots back on and tying them this time, Daniel made his way to the chow line, where only a few students and Smitty were up, everyone but the dapper chef yawning mightily. The cook, in contrast to the general prevailing mood of grumpy sleepiness, was wide-awake and cheerfully mixing oatmeal and scrambling eggs. Toast was burning and coffee was brewing, and the smells were tempting more and more people out of bed. By the time Daniel was seated and started his meal, the chow line was full and everyone was up.

"Good morning," said Ziv, cheerfully sipping some Chai tea he'd snuck into camp during the last mail run.

"Stuff it," grunted Louie, dropping down at the table next to Daniel, who just smiled a little.

"Damned unnatural," Galya muttered into her oatmeal.

"What?" asked Ziv, sipping his tea again with a look of blissful content.

"You," Michelle growled. She poked at her bacon, then abandoned the meat for fruit with a noise resembling a soft snarl.

Mac, approaching with his own tray of fruit and eggs, snorted. Saloma, right behind him, poured on the speed and snagged the chair Mac was aiming for - as far from Galya and Ziv as possible. The two ground on each other's nerves until sometime before lunch - Daniel had been yet unable to pin down the exact moment of the changeover, as everyone was usually too thankful to hear them speaking civilly to check their watches.

Mac glared at Saloma, who dug into her cereal with a blithely oblivious expression, which turned to a triumphant grin the moment Mac turned and made his way to the other end of the table and the only empty chair - right between Galya and Ziv. The smile was gone by the time Mac, glancing warily at the combatants poised on either side, sat down.

The rest of the meal went pretty much as expected - Galya snapping at Ziv, who remained undauntedly perky, while Louie interjected a comment every so often and Mac cringed uncomfortably. Daniel, Michelle, Saloma, and Tobe - when he arrived near the end of the meal - kept their heads down, exchanging amused glances as the coffee started to kick in.

When Daniel returned his tray to the section of the pavilion designated 'kitchen', he saw Jack entering the tent and glancing around at the students beginning to clear away their dishes. The Colonel was more awake than many of the students, who huddled near the coffee machines filling cups and thermoses. Daniel caught a gleam of humor shining out of Jack's eyes as he glanced at the crowds gathering coffee as if it were nectar of the gods in order to fortify themselves for the day. "So it's a genetic thing," he remarked as he stopped next to Daniel for a moment before heading to the chowline.

"What?" Daniel asked, not really paying attention.

"The coffee gene. Probably a recessive trait that only comes out in archaeologists," Jack replied smartly. There was humor, and a little wariness in his eyes that dissipated as Daniel smiled.

Daniel turned to leave, and Jack said quickly, "What are you going to do?"

"Today, I'm working in the Essene dig. Over there," Daniel said, waving a hand toward the highest point in the village.

"Have fun."

And that was the extent of their conversation for the morning. It had gone pretty well, Daniel thought dryly. Neither one of them had ended up hurt, angry, or upset at the end of it.

He was digging with his trowel while contemplating these rather distracting thoughts when he heard the distinctive noise of metal impacting on metal. Carefully, Daniel removed the trowel and took up a heavy brush. Vigorous wiping revealed the edge of a metal disk, glinting slightly in the sun.

Daniel, crouched low in the dirt, sat back for a moment and cocked his head to the side as he contemplated the best way to remove the piece. After a moment, and a glance at the assorted tools nearby, he reached for a small pick and began to loosen the dirt around the disk.

"Whatcha doin'?" came an interested voice from above him. Surprised, Daniel squinted up to find Jack watching him, sitting at the edge of the pit in which Daniel was working.

"Think I found something," Daniel answered.

"Cool," said Jack.

"Yes. Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Shut up a minute, willya?"

Jack was still for a moment, and then Daniel glanced up with a shy grin. Jack snorted. "Yea sure you betcha."

He watched as Daniel painstakingly unearthed the rest of the metal disk.

"So what is it?"

Daniel glanced up again, this time a look of wry amusement warring with a carefully veiled surprise. Surprise that Jack was showing an interest in what he was doing. _Dammit, Danny,_ Jack thought sadly. _Meet me halfway._ _I've always been interested in what you're up to._

"It's a firepan."

Jack just gave him a blank look. "And? So? Therefore?"

Daniel shot another wary look at Jack, before taking a breath and launching right in. "Firepans. Sacred vessels used by priests to carry away the ashes of sacrifices or used as censers to carry live coals. Incense was sprinkled on the coals as an offering to God. The Bible recounts that they were used in sacrificial rituals, but no mention is made of how. They were usually made of bronze, and that's referenced also in the Bible, when Israel worshipped at the portable tabernacle. In Solomon's temple, the firepan and other such sacred utensils were made of gold."

"Daniel, I know we're talking Christianity here, but -" Jack's face was tense, his hands looking as if they would be more comfortable holding his P-90.

"But?" Daniel prompted.

"Sacrifices? What's the snake probability on this one?"

"Sacrifices of animals were commonly practiced in early Chrisitanity. The only episode that is slightly questionable is the near-death of Isaac at the hands of his father Abraham, supposedly by the will of God. It was actually a test of Abraham's faith, and a goat was sacrificed in the boy's stead after an angel intervened on behalf of God."

"Yea, I know." At Daniel's look of surprise, Jack replied, "O'Neill. Irish Catholic."

"Ah."

"Yea. So - snake probability?"

Daniel, still crouched in the dirt, sat back on his butt and frowned at the firepan.

"Danny?"

There was a slight stiffening of Daniel's shoulders, but he answered. Even if he wasn't meeting Jack's eyes. "I'm - not entirely sure." Jack's brow rose. "From what we know of the major System Lords, our planet has been pretty much left alone since Ra was overthrown in the early millennia B.C. However, there are several other factors that need to be considered."

"Such as?" Jack definitely did not like the sound of this.

"Seth. Osiris. And our last mission," Daniel said, still frowning down at the dirt. He crouched again, and picked up a nearby camera, photographing the find _in situ_. He moved around the pan, recording its position relative to the landmarks of the dig, and measurements from the walls. Jack mused over the Goa'uld Daniel had mentioned while the archaeologist worked to catalog minutia of the site before he carefully lifted the firepan from where it had been embedded in the soil for centuries. Daniel then placed several small marking flags around the large divot in the ground.

"The last - but Amawassis was defeated by Lazy Susan. Then Seth took him out. No worries, right?"

"Well, on that score, yes. Technically."

"Technically?"

Daniel frowned at the pan he was turning over in his fingers, not bothering to look around and make sure the other archaeologists were out of earshot. If Jack had brought this up, then they would be.

"Our last mission. The discovery of a feudal Japanese society with the presence of Samurai argues cultural transplantation of 16th century Oriental peoples. However, there is also the point that people of an earlier timeframe could have been transplanted and naturally evolved to that era as the people on Earth did. They had many of the same key cultural foundations, such as their honor and judgement codes, but there were also subtle differences. For one, Amaterasu appeared to be the dominant deity on P5Y-362, with little or no mention of other gods prominently found in the Japanese culture. Given these differences, I believe this to be the case. " Daniel stopped for a moment. "Also, history was much more accurately recorded in the 16th century, no matter where you're looking on the globe. I find it hard to believe that a Goa'uld would be able to take a substantial amount of people without it showing up _somewhere_ - a mention of a light in the sky, or the populations of several villages disappearing. Anything, even if it became an urban legend."

"Final verdict?" asked Jack nervously.

"Hmm?" Daniel was caught up in his thoughts, absently examining the firepan. "I'd say the people on P5Y-362 were transplanted by Amaterasu much earlier than the 16th century. But if you want me to verify that there was no Goa'uld dipping its fingers in the roots of Christianity, I can't."

"Why not?"

Daniel shrugged, moving to stand. He stretched his legs as bit as he continued. "Look at the evidence. In Christianity itself, most notably the story of Jesus. A man is brutally killed, and later rises from the dead after being placed in a tomb."

Jack winced. "Sarcophagus?"

Daniel shrugged again. "Ascension into heaven is mentioned, as well."

"Oh, not one of those glowy energy people again," Jack grumbled.

"Beats me. While the story is taken from different angles by Judaism and Islam, the main idea is still roughly the same. The major difference is that Jesus is regarded as a prophet by Muslims and Jews, rather than the heir of King David - the Messiah - and the son of God, as Christians believe." Daniel began to walk toward one of the ladders leading out of the pit. "It keeps going. Lazarus, raised from the dead. The concept of 'laying on hands', which was a ritual usually preformed by priests or those who were in the presence of God, could be interpreted as using a Goa'uld healing device. The story of Abraham and Isaac. The concept of the hand of God striking down the unrighteous."

"Ribbon device." Jack stood and followed Daniel's progress on the edge of the pit.

"Or it could all just be coincidence. Take this?" Daniel stretched, handing up the firepan, and Jack grasped it gently as he bent precariously over the pit. Daniel mounted the ladder. "Many of the concepts I just enumerated are found even farther back in history. There is a Greek tale that corresponds to the story of Abraham and Isaac."

"Cronus," Jack grumbled.

"Exactly. The idea of returning from the dead is found in nearly every culture and religion. Divine healing, divine punishment - " Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose as he dismounted from the ladder, reaching out for the firepan. Jack placed it carefully in his grasp. "What I'm saying is that, while it was definitely more possible for a Goa'uld to have an impact on history two thousand years ago, it would be almost impossible for one to go unnoticed in the fifteen hundreds. And even taking that into account, I figure that many of the concepts in the Bible filter down from older religions that were derivatives of the ones the Goa'uld established thousands of years ago. Most of Christianity was developed by the Essene, who studied many assorted faiths. It's only reasonable to assume that they incorporated many main ideas from older religious practices into the theology - which would account for the veiled references to Goa'uld technology."

"So - no?" Jack asked, having followed through the entire conversation.

"No," Daniel confirmed. His attention returned to the firepan as he directed his steps toward the closest tent

Jack waited a minute, and then said, "What were you doing back there, with all the pictures and tape measurements and the little flags? Never seen that before."

Daniel became even more focused on the object in his hands. "Oh - that? Mac's a tyrant about preserving the site, and absolutely finicky about knowing _exactly_ where everything was found. Makes for more precise dating, more accurate evidence about the site, which in turn supports the credibility of any information and hypothesis made about the dig, or anything relating to it. And the reason I don't do it is because of the time constraints on the teams. It wasn't even logical to bother on 888."

"I'm sorry about that," Jack said seriously. "I can see how much you love this, and I know -"

"Jack -" Daniel cut him off and then stopped. After a moment, he began speaking once more. "I've gotten used to it off-world. I mean, gate-travel itself could almost make up for the shortcuts I have to take."

"Almost," Jack said softly.

Daniel's head dropped. "Part of me always knows that what I'm trying to do is ridiculous," he replied. "I mean, our UAV's and MALP's survey roughly twenty miles around the gate. And from these twenty-mile scans, we assume a planet is inhabited, or not, based on the assumption that the people would stay near the Stargate. It's illogical to think that an entire planet is deserted based on a twenty-mile circumference." Here Daniel snorted. "Hell, when you and Sam ended up in Antarctica, you thought it was an ice planet - and that was just one continent."

"I see your point," Jack said. They reached the tent, and Jack pulled the flap back as Daniel walked into the shelter from the hot noon sun.

"Yo, Daniel!" said Tobe, a grin lighting his face. "Whatcha got?"

"Firepan," Daniel responded. He was mobbed by eager students in a heartbeat, and within moments was explaining the significance of the find, the location, and that it was most probably traded to the Essene rather than made by them, given the markings and quality of the metal.

"What's the deal with these Essene, anyway?" Jack asked when Daniel finally extracted himself from the students, leaving the firepan in their collective clutches. Daniel raised a brow. "Irish Catholic, huh?"

Jack pulled a haughtily offended expression. "Yea. Wanna make somethin' of it?"

Daniel snorted. "Try to remember where you are, Jack."

"Standing in a tent?"

"No. Israel."

"Ah. Got that." Jack flashed a sheepish grin, and Daniel smiled back. For moment, it almost felt like the last year had never happened.

"Ask again at lunchtime," Daniel suggested as they moved out of the tent before he could be ambushed by eager students about location and position and God knew what else, Jack reflected.

"Speaking of lunch," Jack commented.

As if on cue, a loud bell rang out, and the noise level coming from inside the tent practically tripled.

"Looks as if we're going to hurry if we want anything to eat," Daniel commented, setting out at a brisk pace.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(looks around warily) well, this chapter has probably pushed me from half-lapsed to excommunicated, but I've been wanting to expound on the possible Goa'uld references in the Bible for a loooooong time. (grins). I hope you're all enjoying the s -l - o - w reconciliation. It gets better! I promise! (and reviews make me sooo happy!) Thank you to all my faithful reviewers! Thank you thank you thank you!!


	20. Chapter 20

Jack had finished his meal with his typical speed, which enabled him to look around the table and generally assess his surroundings.

Daniel smothered a smile as Jack opened his mouth. Things were about to get interesting.

"So, these Essene."

"Yeah," said Ziv, an enraptured look on his face.

"Who were they, exactly?"

Cutlery clattered to the tabletop. Food abruptly halted on its journey into mouths. Galya choked on her drink. Heads turned. Jaws dropped.

"You - you don't _know_?" The last word was a horrified squeak, and Daniel turned away to hide his laughter. Louie didn't notice.

"He doesn't know," murmured Galya. "Poor, uneducated - "

"Deprived," moaned Ziv.

"Ignorant," gasped Saloma.

"Utterly clueless slob," finished Mac mercilessly.

Jack jerked. "Hey!"

Daniel was certain he saw Sam biting her lip on a grin at the effortless repartee of the archaeologists. Teal'c cocked an eyebrow over his coleslaw.

"We must halt this travesty at once," Michelle ordered dramatically, eyes lighting up with unholy mischief. "Mac, center stage." Michelle gestured towards the ranking professor with her fork.

"The Essene," he began, his accented voice rolling richly across the chatter of the students. "They were very much an unknown sect of Christianity, until the uncovering of the Dead Sea Scrolls - "

"1946," sighed Louie. "What a wonderful year." He turned back to his pasta salad with relish.

"In 1946," finished Mac. Jack cast an amused glance at Louie, who remained oblivious. "At that time - we're of course talking thousands of years ago - they were a holy Brotherhood -Sisterhood which was persecuted on account of their beliefs."

"Ain't it always the way," Jack mourned.

"Anyway," Mac continued, ignoring him, " This sect brought forth many of the religious founders who would change the course of history and create the foundations of Christianity, including Joseph, Mary, Jesus, John the Baptist, St. Ann, John the Evangelist - the list goes on."

"Go figure," Jack muttered. Teal'c was listening closely. Because of their work and the touchy nature of religion and belief, it was rare that he found people willing to talk about Tau'ri faith.

"The Essenes considered themselves separate people," Daniel said, leaning forward as he became absorbed in the conversation. Of their own accord, his hands lifted and began moving as he tried to emphasize his point. "Not because of anything as superficial as appearance, but because of the illumination of their inner life, their knowledge of hidden mysteries of nature unknown to other men."

"Meaning-of-life stuff?" asked Sam.

"Exactly!" Daniel responded. "They looked at themselves as at the center of all peoples, because their sect, though reclusive in nature, was open to anyone who could pass the tests. Many of the original Essene were, and I quote, "heirs of God's sons and daughters of old", who "possessed their advanced knowledge and worked assiduously in secret for the triumph of the light over the darkness of the human mind". The mission entrusted to them turned out to be the founding of Christianity and western civilization."

"Sound like the souls of modesty," Jack commented.

Daniel snorted.

"They studied all the religions of their time," Michelle interrupted eagerly, "in order to extract great scientific principles. According to Essene philosophy, each religion was a different stage of one single revelation. "

"Indeed," said Ziv, eyes sparking with zeal. "They placed the most emphasis on the teachings of Hermes Trismegiste, the ancient Chaldeans, and Zoroaster. They looked to the secret instructions of Moses and one of the founding masters of their order - who revealed techniques similar to Buddhism - and the revelations of Enoch. They had a 'living science' composed of all these revelations."

"Thus," Mac continued, "they could communicate with angelic and heavenly beings, and had solved the question of the origin of evil on Earth."

Jack looked simultaneously as if he was trying not to glaze over, and as if he had been zatted.

"It gets better," said Daniel, getting into the spirit. Sam was leaning forward, enthralled in the rapid interchange among the archaeologists, and the dizzying amount of information being revealed. "The reason for their continual persecution stems from their solid refusal to lie or compromise. They had a strict discipline which forbade such actions, in order to preserve the purity of their immortal souls, and prevent any contact with evil spirits that could taint them."

"How do you know all this?" asked Sam wonderingly.

Galya grinned, seeing the scientist in the only woman to accompany the small military group. "The Essene also considered themselves to be guardians of what was known as the 'Divine Teaching'. They had many manuscripts in their possession, some of which date back to that vague era known as 'the dawn of time'." Air quotes emphasized her point. "Much like monks would later do in monasteries across Europe, members of the Essene School spent much time devoted to copying and transcribing the volumes into different languages. It was a sacred task to preserve and perpetuate such knowledge."

"Do you hope to find some such manuscripts within this excavation?" Teal'c asked.

Tobe sighed. "Ah, if only."

At the puzzled looks, Saloma said dryly, "We are archaeologists. We dig in the dirt, squabble and exclaim over the least little thing. To find something like that is a magnificent dream, with no more substance than a cloud."

"That was very poetic," said Jack admiringly.

Saloma shot him a cheeky grin and bit wolfishly into her hamburger.

"Hope springs eternal," Daniel commented dryly. Saloma chewed vigorously, still smiling broadly.

"Ah, Shakespeare," murmured Louie. " 'I say there is no darkness but ignorance'. Twelfth Night. Exquisite. Pure beauty."

"And then there's ignorance. Shall we finish bringing this lad into the light?" asked Mac with a downright devilish smirk, looking pointedly at Jack. The colonel was now definitely looking like he'd had a run in - or two - with the wrong end of a zat.

"The Essene, as I've said before, saw their Brotherhood-Sisterhood as the light shining in the darkness, the light inviting the darkness to change itself to light," Mac continued on. "When one asked to be admitted to their School, it was an awakening of the soul. Their task was to assist the 'sleeping souls', encourage the 'drowsy souls', and guide the 'awakened souls'. Only the awakened could become Essene."

"Though many people disagreed with these ideas," Daniel put in, taking control of the conversation. "The Essene were well known as the Brothers and Sisters in white. To the Egyptians, they were _"The Healers, The Doctors"_, while the Hebrews called them _"The School of Prophets"_. In Jerusalem, there was even a door that bore their name: the Door of the Essenes. Most people respected them and held them in high esteem because of their honesty, discretion, goodness and pacificism. Also, the Essene practiced good PR with the masses - free lodging for pilgrims, aid for the sick, and teaching."

"Whoa," said Jack, after a moment had passed in which the archaeologists said nothing, applying themselves to their food. "Is - that it?" he asked tentatively.

Daniel smiled. "Pretty much," he said, returning to his food.

Teal'c looked somewhat baffled. "Daniel Jackson," he said.

"Hmm?" Daniel asked.

"May I inquire as to the concept of the 'soul'?"

Jack's groan resembled the dying cry of a wounded animal. He shoved his chair back hastily and stood. "I'm going to go - shoot something."

"Sir?" asked Carter, baffled.

"Check something," Jack responded, moving away quickly. "I'm going to check something."

"I think I'll stay," said Carter, turning back to the table with a smile.

"You - do that," Jack mumbled. He turned from the table and walked away as quickly as he could without seeming to run, the rapid-fire commentary from the academics ringing in his ears.

Mac turned to Daniel. "So how much of that d'you think he got?"

Daniel glanced at Jack and smiled. "Don't be fooled, he got it all. He probably didn't enjoy the getting, but he's got it."

Mac looked thoughtfully at the disappearing Air Force Colonel. "There's much more to him than would first appear."

Daniel nodded a little. "Yea, with Jack, there is."

"You were friends," said Mac gently, knowing that he was treading on shaky ground.

"Yes," Daniel sighed. "We were. Now - I don't know."

"Do you think you could be friends again?" Mac asked. The low conversation between the two men was lost in the religious jargon being tossed around the table as the scholars expounded on history, theory, and actuality.

"I don't know," Daniel replied, his eyes locked on Jack's retreating back. "It will take a lot of work, I think. But God, I hope so."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. ALL information about the Essene is credited to this website: All the information related is true, according to the website. I will not, however, vouch for anything other than the accuracy of my information to that on the site; therefore, it is entirely possible that the information is erroneus. But not to my knowledge.

Hope I didn't blow you away.

Productions deadline date is coming up - unfortunately, I'm not finished. There's a convenient ending spot around ch. 25, where I will be forced to cut you off. After the reconciliation, but before the NID situation is fully dealt with. Sorry.

Have I mentioned that I love all questions thrown at me in reviews? I do my best to answer in the context of the story, or email when I can't, so if you have a question, leave me your email in a review and I guarentee and (probably lengthy) response. Ciao!


	21. Chapter 21

"Hey."

Jack looked up from the pack he was poking through. He smiled when he saw that Daniel had followed him back to the chopper. "Hi."

Daniel came to stand next to him, staring at the interior of the helicopter. "What's going to be done about the NID?" he asked quietly.

"Well, we can't keep him tied up in there forever," said Jack, his expression suggesting that was exactly what he wanted to do. Knowing that Daniel wasn't talking about just the operative. "Hammond's ordered me to bring him back to the States."

"Oh."

Jack waited.

"Mac wanted to let you know that you're welcome to share the oasis bathing privileges with the teachers."

"That so?"

"Unless, of course, you'd rather take your turn with the students." Jack winced, and Daniel grinned a little.

"Co-ed bath time?" the Colonel asked.

Daniel nodded.

"Any advice?"

Daniel smirked. "Watch your six, and don't let anyone else watch it for you."

Jack eyed the archaeologist, who blushed faintly. "Is this personal experience talking?" His voice was wary, yet tinged with amusement.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "You have no idea."

Jack grinned.

"We're higher on the food chain than the undergrads, and get to bathe right after supper," Daniel informed him.

"Cool," said Jack. "I'll tell Sam and Teal'c." 

Daniel nodded, then turned and went back to the dig. All that afternoon, Jack carefully watched over his archaeologist, talking and joking lightly while Daniel worked on the excavation, mostly silent - yet every once in a while he would say something. Jack took it as a sign of healing, knowing that the rift in the team was mostly between Daniel and himself.

After a supper which showed that the archaeologists were running low on steam - or at least Jack hoped they were - he, Sam and Teal'c met Daniel and the others at the oasis. The teachers were already stripped to their underclothes, and involved in an exuberant water fight. Any hopes of dealing with compliant, tired archaeologists were dashed, and ground into the dirt for good measure.

Jack raised a brow.

Daniel, due to the frightening bruising that covered his chest, shoulder, and back, was carefully excluded as he soaped down. The teachers all shouted and talked to him, but refrained from dragging him into the conflict.

Sam looked at Colonel O'Neill with mischief in her eyes. "Sir?"

"When in Oz, Carter," Jack sighed, pulling his shirt off and dropping it, along with his socks and boots, in a small pile near where the archaeologists had dumped their stuff. "Just make nice with the natives in their natural habitat. These look like hostiles to me. We wouldn't want to . . . provoke them."

Hearing the unspoken suggestion in her CO's voice, Carter grinned. Teal'c also raised a brow, smiling blandly. The Jaffa and the Major stripped quickly, following Jack's lead. Together, the three of them jumped into the oasis with a yell, forming an offensive line that had the archaeologists banding together for defense. The fight was fast and furious, with both sides suffering heavy casualties before a tie was announced, and a truce formed - for that evening, anyway.

Invigorated by the cool water, the archaeologists, Jack and Teal'c stayed to chat and wash. Sam, however, rinsed quickly and got out, wanting to talk to Daniel. He'd left as soon as the fight got serious, washing economically and pulling on his pants to be able to make the walk to his tent with some modicum of decency. He was sitting, shoving his feet into his boots.

"Hey," Sam said, grasping her towel. Daniel looked up and blushed, looking away while Sam dried. As she reached for her clothes, Sam heard a low hissing and froze. "Daniel?" Her voice was pitched slightly higher than usual.

Daniel looked, and saw her problem. It was a puff adder, a short, stubby, venomous snake that became very active after sunset. Now, the sun was just barely lingering over the horizon, indicating the beginning of the adder's day. The snake was gray-brown with black markings, blending into the dirt. Daniel knew that these reptiles were bad-tempered and likely to strike at anyone who disturbed them. The snake was focused on Sam, who had frozen. She didn't have any weapons on her, and was disturbingly close to the snake, which had been slithering among the bundles of clothing on the tiny beach of the oasis. She took a small step back and the snake hissed, rearing its head back menacingly.

"Don't move!" Daniel whispered, reaching toward his boot.

Three things happened almost at once. The snake lunged toward Sam's ankle, Sam shouted and jumped back, and the handle of Daniel's knife impacted with the back of the snake's skull. Sam took a deep breath, the adrenaline making her unable to stay still. She circled around the motionless snake, staying a good five feet away, and moved toward Daniel.

Daniel stood from where he had been sitting, pulling on his boots, and quickly moved to the snake. When he picked up the knife, Sam immediately saw his familiarity with the weapon. Daniel picked the snake up firmly just behind his head, cradling the rest of its body in his left hand. "What are you doing here?" he asked the stunned reptile quietly.

"Daniel?" came Jack's worried voice.

"It's okay," the archaeologist called back before Jack could say a word.

"What is it?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Puff adder," Daniel replied. "I'll be right back." He walked off with the snake and Sam stood gaping in amazement.

"Don't be bothered by serpent," said Tobe lazily.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, looking at the young man wading out of the shallows.

"Sir Pent," said Tobe, enunciating the space between the two words. "That's what Katie calls him. He turned up two weeks ago, and again several days later. We can't quite figure him out."

"You can't," Sam said flatly.

"You see, the natural habitat for a puff adder is the scrublands, brush and suchlike," Tobe explained, briskly toweling off and pulling on loose khakis. "After the first time he showed up, Daniel started teaching the students and undergrads to throw knives, just in case he wasn't around and there was an . . . incident. It's harder than it looks," said Tobe, wrinkling his nose. "I'm not very good, but then I don't have to be. Katie is."

A smile appeared on Sam's face as she noted Tobe's blissful expression whenever he mentioned the young woman. She turned over this new, startling information about Daniel in her head. "Did he say where he learned it?" she asked, curious.

"On a dig in Central America, about ten years ago," Tobe replied. "Why, didn't you know?"

Sam winced a little. Daniel had many talents the rest of SG-1 was only now finding out about - now that he was gone. "No," she said softly. "I had no idea." Just as she'd had no idea about the fighting. Somehow, when she wasn't looking, her 'little brother' had turned into a warrior. A sudden fission of fear struck her. He had become a warrior, but had his spirit changed? The generous, giving, sweet-natured man who had been her friend had somehow been lost to the distanced scholar-warrior who had taken his place.

Gazing out toward where Daniel had carried the snake, Sam relaxed marginally. Stunning the snake rather than killing it was a quintessentially "Daniel" action. But even so, he had changed, and she hadn't noticed.

Pulling on the rest of her clothes, Sam made her way out past the dig, following Daniel. When she caught up with him, he had just set the snake down and slowly, smoothly, backed away, to avoid startling the still-dazed reptile.

"Daniel?" she asked quietly, keeping a sharp eye out for other dangerous desert creatures.

He turned to her with a small, strained smile. "Sam," he said. "What is it?"

Sam took a breath. "Can we talk?"

Daniel looked sharply at her. "Of course," he said.

Sam waited for him to come to her, and together they started walking away from the oasis, in the direction of the Dead Sea.

"I want to apologize," she said softly. "I know there were some things happening with the team that I was partly responsible for. Some things that made you think you had to leave."

"I did have to leave, Sam," Daniel pointed out gently. "The Stargate Program was my life, but after everything that happened this year, I couldn't stay. I'd break if I did." The last was said so lowly that Sam barely heard it.

"I know," she murmured. "But I want to set this straight. I know there was a - a split between you and the Colonel, and I think that it was partly my fault. The whole zatarc issue clouded everything between us, and to a degree I stopped doing my job."

Daniel looked at her sharply in shock. "Sam, you never-"

"But I did," she interrupted. "I wasn't as professional as I should have been, wasn't as distanced as I needed to be."

"When have any of us ever been as distanced as we're supposed to be?" Daniel asked bitterly.

"You are now," Sam said gently, unsure if she was treading on shaky ground.

Daniel's good arm wrapped around his rib-cage in a self-hug. Sam flinched, but Daniel's gaze was focused on the ground, and he didn't see. "I didn't have a choice," he whispered.

The two walked in silence for a while.

"I didn't even realize I was doing it," Daniel admitted softly. "At first, I was sure it was something I had done. I know I didn't help the situation, on Euronda. And with the Enkarans. But I had to keep doing what I felt was right, even if I was no longer able to do my job."

"Daniel?" Sam was confused.

Daniel laughed a little, a sad, acrimonious sound. "Sam, we've turned into a fighting unit, rather than a first-contact team. I learned what was necessary to survive."

What was necessary. Sam hated that phrase with a passion. It should never have been necessary.

"And you were fighting all of us," Sam murmured. "I'm so sorry, Daniel."

"What for?" Daniel was surprised.

"For not supporting you," she said.

"It's all right," Daniel replied, clearly dismissing it.

"No!" Sam's vehemence took Daniel by surprise. Her throat was starting to clog, her eyes tearing up. "No, it's not all right. I just rolled over instead of standing up with you, even when I knew you were right. I'd forgotten that I could disagree with impunity. I'd forgotten that having an opinion isn't grounds for court-marshal. And by not saying anything to support you, I ended up supporting the Colonel." Sam shook her head, blinking back tears. "And I lost all respect for myself by caving like that."

Daniel sighed. It all came back to his estrangement from Jack. With any other team, Hammond would have split them up long ago, rather than let them try - and fail - to work it through. The reason for that was when they were all in agreement, all in balance, SG-1 could pull off the impossible.

But this, now, was impossible. He'd never known the true depth of his friendship with Jack - never known that if it should fall apart, it would take the team with it. He'd thought they could weather any storm, but apparently, he was wrong. And even after everything had crumbled around him, he thought they'd still be able to work together. But for some unknown reason, Jack's respect for him had dissolved with their friendship. Daniel felt ill.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted.

They had reached the beach now, the heavy salt air brushing their skin as they gazed over the dark water.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. The stars and moon were shining, glinting off the waves.

Daniel shrugged. "I love it here. I love the work."

"But?" Sam was gentle, coaxing, praying that she would hear something that would tell her that Daniel would come back to them.

"I miss . . ."

The words were barely whispered, almost lost in the breath of wind that gusted over them.

"I miss the way we used to be," Daniel said, stronger. "We can't get that back, ever. And I can't go back to the way things have been this past year."

Sam felt a ray of hope.

"I just want things to move forward," Daniel finished, slumping to the sand.

Sam sat down next to him. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said quietly. "I'm sorry for not being as good a friend as I should have been."

Daniel sighed. "Teal'c pretty much said the same thing."

Sam was surprised. "And the Colonel?"

Daniel shrugged. "We talked - but I don't know that we solved anything."

Sam frowned, but Daniel didn't see it. The sound of singing carried on the wind, and Daniel turned back toward the camp. "Looks like it's time to go back," Daniel murmured.

"Daniel - "

He turned to her, and she read the question in his eyes.

"Are we okay?"

Daniel was silent for a long moment, considering the question from all angles. "I think - " he paused, waiting a moment, before he smiled. It was a little smile, but enough to fill Sam with hope. "I think we will be."

Sam grinned, and then threw herself at him, enveloping Daniel in a hug. He was stiff and resistant at first, but slowly relaxed into it, his arms coming up around Sam, returning the gesture. For a moment she just clung, breathing in his smell, hoping that she would be able to hold tight enough to keep him with them.

He gently disentangled himself after a few moments, a tiny smile on his lips, and Sam smiled back. It wouldn't be easy, but there was hope now that they could move past the disaster of the last year, and become a team again.

They walked back to the camp, talking quietly of the goings-on in Colorado Springs. Sam told him of Cassie and Janet, of the latest discoveries through the gate. Both carefully avoided speaking of the events of the last few hours, more involved in discovering that their friendship had not deteriorated as much as either had feared.

By the time they slowly circled the oasis and returned to camp, Sam and Dan were pleasantly easy in each other's presence in a way they had not been in over a year. Things between them were not fully mended - they could not be, in so short a time. But the healing had begun, and begun well.

As they approached the fire, they could hear the noise of the fiddle die down, soothing the wind and becoming softer, like the whisper of a lover. Sam sat down on a log between Daniel and Teal'c, with Jack on Teal'c's far side.

The firelight made Ziv's fiddle gleam a deep wine color. With his eyes closed and his face relaxed, consumed by music, a part of the flighty scientist was revealed that few ever saw. His absorption in the melody was complete, and the sounds produced by the battered instrument fell lightly through the air, enthralling and soothing.

"He's fantastic," Sam murmured. Daniel nodded, and Ziv blinked, looking up as the song finished. He grinned as the archaeologists clapped enthusiastically.

Without lowering the instrument, he began a new song, one which Sam vaguely recognized. Daniel stiffened as the chords began, recognizing one of Louie's favorite songs.

Michelle caught on to the song quickly, and Ziv winked at her. With that cue, the grad student opened her mouth and began to sing, her voice rising softly, molten and golden, through the chill evening air. Ziv's bow caressed the strings, and the song was so pure and emotional that it brought tears to several eyes.

__

April, come she will

When streams are ripe and swelled with rain.

May, she will stay,

Resting in my arms again.

June, she'll change her tune.

In restless walks she'll prowl the night

July, she will fly,

And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must

The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.

September, I'll remember,

A love once new has now grown old.

Sam blinked back her tears, and saw the soft look on Teal'c's face as he recalled his wife. She glanced over at the colonel, who roughly wiped his face. Catching Sam glancing at him, he whispered an aggrieved "What?"

Sam shook her head, a small smile playing about her lips. She turned to Daniel, about to comment on the music. Sam was taken aback by the raw grief on Daniel's face. Without a word, the archaeologist turned from the fire and slipped away.

Sam half-stood, but sat when the Colonel rose quickly to his feet and motioned for her to stay put. Her C.O. disappeared into the darkness, following the noise of his friend's passage.

Daniel fled the campfire. He'd heard the song before, occasionally. Louie had requested the melody once or twice, Simon and Garfunkel being among his favorite artists. He'd been able to keep his emotions in check previously, but now his feelings were too close to the surface, and the song hit him hard, dredging up both wonderful and terrible memories. He felt the tears running down his face from a loss that was always present, and rarely acknowledged. Choking back a sob, he sat and finally gave in to his grief.

He was alone for only a few minutes when he heard the noise of someone following him. He shot to his feet, knife in hand, before he saw Jack emerge from the darkness, hands high. "Daniel?" the other asked gently.

Forcing back his tears, Daniel replaced the knife in his boot. He remained on the ground, wiping his face ineffectually.

"Are you all right?" Jack's word were careful, neutral.

Daniel snorted. "No. I will be, though."

"Wanna talk?" asked Jack. Concern shone brightly from warm brown eyes.

Daniel looked up in surprise.

Jack sat next to him, and pulled Daniel to him in an embrace. Daniel just sat there, not shrugging him off, but not accepting the motion, either. "Was it the song?"

Daniel was surprised at Jack's perception. "Not entirely," he admitted quietly. The silence next to him was questioning. Jack was pushing, now, shoving his way back into Daniel's life. He wasn't backing down. Daniel shivered at the realization, and then couldn't seem to stop. Jack gathered him closer, rubbing his back and making soothing noises. "Stop," he whispered before he could hold it in.

Jack sat back, surprised. "Stop what?"

Daniel tried to pull away, but Jack wouldn't let him. After a moment he stopped struggling, knowing that there was no way he would win with one arm immobile. His head hung, defeat written all over him.

"Daniel. Stop what?" Jack demanded.

He was met with silence.

"Daniel."

The archaeologist said, "Stop - this. Just stop. I can't - "

Abruptly Jack understood what Daniel was saying. The younger man had never had any defenses against him, until Jack had started pulling back, pushing him away. He'd had to learn hard and fast how to toughen himself to survive. Now, Daniel was afraid that Jack was pushing himself into Daniel's life only to leave, once more.

"Jeez," Jack whispered, horrified at the realization. "No, Danny. Dear god, no. I would never do that to you again. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave."

Daniel's eyes were dull. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Jack."

Jack sucked in a breath at the blow. He'd done his damnedest to bring Sha'ure back, as had Daniel. Both had failed, and felt that failure keenly. Daniel turned shocked eyes on him.

"No," he breathed. "I didn't mean - no, Jack." Suddenly the archaeologist was clinging to Jack, trying to offer the comfort that Jack had extended to him. Jack wrapped his arms around Daniel, refusing to let go.

After a few moments, Daniel loosened his grip and sat back a bit. Jack saw tiredness in his eyes, and hated himself for putting it there. "Danny?" he asked.

Daniel turned away. "It wasn't totally the song," he muttered to the wind. Jack had to lean forward to catch all his words.

"I pushed it away, ignored it, for a long time." Daniel's voice was quiet, his pain contained. "It always hurts. It never stopped hurting. God!" he gasped, pushing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I miss her. So much," he whispered brokenly.

Jack rocked him, holding the young man close. He knew that ever since he'd pushed his way past the wall Daniel had erected around his emotions, the younger man had been raw and sensitive - which was why Jack had spent the day keeping a close eye on his archaeologist. Now, everything was coming to the surface.

Daniel slowly pulled himself together. Jack helped him to his feet, and led him to the chopper, where he, Sam and Teal'c were bunked. Daniel didn't say anything, and his compliance as Jack wrapped him in a sleeping bag scared the colonel. The archaeologist was emotionally drained, on top of being worn down from his injuries.

Teal'c approached the chopper while Jack watched Daniel sleep. "O'Neill," the Jaffa said.

"Hey, T." Jack rubbed his face tiredly.

"I will take first watch," the Jaffa said. "You will sleep."

"Um, I was -" Jack trailed off, seeing the raised brow over Teal'c's stern expression, which brooked no argument. "I was - just going to sleep," he finished weakly.

Sam entered the chopper as Jack was climbing into his own sleeping bag. She saw Daniel sleeping, Jack pulling up his own bedroll next to the exhausted archaeologist.

Things were far from normal, but it was the happiest sight she had seen in a long time.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I would like to formally acknowledge the several protests lodged against the cut-off proposed ch. 24. I checked, and that's the actual point. I would absolutely love to be open to bribes, but I'm afraid reality isn't that nice. I can simply beg you all not to abandon me now that the end is in sight (sniff, sob!).


	22. Chapter 22

Jack was shocked into wakefulness by motion next to him. A murmur reached his ears, the words flowing and foreign. He sat up, to find Daniel next to him, struggling in his sleep, muttering in a familiar language.

"Daniel," Jack whispered, shaking him gently. The archaeologist did not stir. Teal'c appeared behind him.

"Jeez!" Jack jumped sideways, taken off guard by the Jaffa's sudden entrance. He glanced from Teal'c to Daniel. "What's he saying?" he asked anxiously.

Teal'c's face was like stone. "He is speaking in Abydonian," he answered. "He speaks to his wife, apologizing, begging her forgiveness. He tells her of his love for her."

Jack shook his head. "Stop. That's private stuff. Daniel!"

"Daniel Jackson," came Teal'c's voice, much louder.

Daniel shot upright, panting. "What?" he asked. He heard Sam's confused, "What's going on?" and looked to Jack for an explanation.

"You were having a nightmare," Jack explained gently.

Daniel closed his eyes briefly. "Yes," he responded. "I know."The archaeologist looked at Teal'c. A stranger would have seen the impervious mask without being able to read the pain in his eyes. "It's all right, Teal'c," Daniel said softly. "You _did_ do the right thing."

"I have caused you much pain, Daniel Jackson," the Jaffa responded.

Daniel sighed. When he spoke, his voice was defeated. "No," he said. "You did the only thing you could have done. I wouldn't have had the strength to do it, but you gave Sha'ure release from her slavery. I thank you for that." The Jaffa sat back, clearly shocked. However, Daniel wasn't finished. "But knowing that it was the right thing doesn't make it hurt any less," he murmured. "I want you to know that I don't blame you."

The Jaffa sat back. "I understand," he said quietly.

Jack looked between the two of them, realizing that they had come to some sort of understanding. Probably had something to do with their conversation earlier, and he decided to pester Daniel about it later.

The smell of coffee permeated the interior of the chopper. Jack looked up, to see Sam returning, hair rumpled, with several mugs in her hands. "Ah."

"Mmm," Daniel sighed, and he cupped the mug Sam gave him with both hands. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the smell with a little smile on his face, his teammates exchanging grins at the action. Daniel's coffee addiction was comfortingly predictable.

Daniel opened his eyes, to find his former teammates beaming at him. He gave them a small frown, blue eyes wide. "You guys okay?"

"We will be," said Jack mysteriously, sipping his own mug. He sputtered. "For cryin' out loud! Jeez, Carter, did you put any water in with your ground coffee beans this morning?" The stuff was like sludge, thick and overpoweringly strong. "How can you drink this stuff?" he asked Daniel, who was sipping happily at the liquid.

Carter took a mouthful, and froze. Teal'c, observing the reactions of the others, placed the mug on the floor of the chopper and gave it a challenging stare.

Daniel smiled. "Ziv and Smitty are the only real morning people at the dig. Everyone else - "

"Let me guess," Jack drawled. "The coffee and archaeology genes are linked."

Daniel grinned. "It's only a theory. But Ziv can't stand the thought of morning zombies messing with the dig and making mistakes. Mac, once he's fully conscious, agrees, so they have Smitty up the caffeine intake of the students by strengthening the coffee."

"It's an acquired taste," Jack informed him.

Daniel shrugged."Sam, are you going to swallow that?" He started shoving at the sleeping bag, disentangling himself from the material.

Carter looked slightly panicked at the thought, but girded her courage and swallowed. Loud coughing followed the brave decision. Jack pounded her on the back. "Thank you, sir," she managed hoarsely.

Teal'c gave the coffee a considering glance.

"Ah, come off it, Teal'c," said Jack. "Junior will probably keep you from feeling the effects."

"That is an assumption I believe unwise to test, O'Neill," Teal'c responded.

"Wuss," Jack sneered under his breath.

Daniel finally got the sleeping bag undone, and slithered around the others toward the chopper's open door.

"What's up?"

"The sun, Jack," Daniel responded, dropping to the ground. "Breakfast?"

"Ah." With that, the others followed Daniel to the pavilion, and the chow line. When they reached the table, much to Daniel's surprise, there was no division between military and academia that there had been previously. Mac was discussing something with Jack in the corner, while Galya and Sam were absorbed in a conversation. Ziv was animatedly arguing with Teal'c.

Daniel smiled a little over his food, glad to see all his friends mingling. The thought pulled him up short, and he gave it due consideration. He thought of Jack, Sam and Teal'c as friends, rather than colleagues, again. He smiled wryly to himself. In truth, he had never been able to stop thinking of them like that, forcing himself to make the distinction previously.

"Penny?" asked Sam, looking at him sideways over her eggs.

Daniel shrugged.

"Ah, come on," Jack encouraged, stirring his oatmeal vigorously. He had never really recovered his taste for Fruit Loops after the looping incident.

"Just wondering what's next," Daniel said, avoiding their eyes.

None of his teammates mistook his meaning.

"Well, we're leaving in two days," Jack said. "Hammond won't accept any delays in bringing back the NID after that. And you're coming with us," he continued confidently.

Daniel looked at him carefully.

"That - that is, if you want to," Jack stuttered a bit, security wavering.

Daniel didn't say anything. The remainder of the archaeologists were looking surreptitiously at the group, eating their food quietly.

"We need your testimony against the NID if we're going to get a court martial," Sam interjected quietly.

"The project is too classified to ever see the light of day," Daniel retorted just as quietly. He honestly didn't believe a trial would ever take place. Daniel was restlessly turning a fork over and over in his hands as he refused to meet their eyes. The archaeologists began to stand, leaving the table with their half-empty trays.

"That doesn't mean these rat bastards won't get their just desserts," Jack hissed.

"Indeed, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c. "In my culture, I would be well within my rights to dismember them."

Daniel didn't even crack a smile at the reference. "Daniel. We want you to come back with us," Jack pleaded.

The archaeologist just looked at him. "I don't know," he said after a moment. Did they understand that, where once he wouldn't have hesitated to make that leap of faith, with the hope that they could regain their equilibrium, he now lacked the trust to do so? He was afraid to jump, afraid that even after they had each come to him and expressed their sorrow at the crumbling of their friendship, they would still let him fall. In his life, no family had ever been permanent. He'd let himself forget that with Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. Leaving them had felt like watching that coverstone fall all over again. He knew he might survive it once more, but how many times could he pick himself up from that loss?

"You can always come back after you give your testimony," Jack replied, tracing a pattern on the table as he carefully avoided catching Daniel's eyes.

Daniel felt his heart sink. They just wanted him to return to the States to testify - not back at the SGC or with SG-1. It had been so foolish to hope, he told himself grimly. But now, at least, he had some idea of what would be waiting for him. Would he take this chance? To spend time with them, to see if they could regain their friendship? This time he knew that it would end before it began, and he wouldn't be caught off guard. Was it worth the risk of being cast aside once more?

Emotions welled up inside him, too long suppressed to be pushed back now. _Yes_, his heart cried, grasping at the opportunity. His lips tightened. He missed them too much to let this chance go by, even though he knew how it would end. Especially because he knew how it must end.

Daniel looked up from the tray in front of him, dropping the fork onto the plastic. He nodded dully, and said, "I'll go with you."

Because he wasn't looking for it, he didn't see the relief and happiness in the eyes of his teammates before he stood. Grasping his tray, he stood gingerly, still slightly favoring his left arm.

Sam stood with him, leaving Jack poking at the oatmeal and encouraging Teal'c to eat. Daniel listened with one ear as Sam began musing on the probability of the device described to them by the NID agent actually existing.

He was intercepted on the way to the Essene excavation site by Galya, who gave him a look that reminded Daniel uncomfortably of Janet. "Where's the sling?" she demanded.

Daniel responded, "I don't need it."

"Oh really?"

Daniel bit down a pained cry as Galya gently pushed at the skin below his collarbone. The bruising was just beginning to fully show, purple-black and ugly as it healed.

Galya's sharp eyes caught Daniel biting his lip. "I see," she responded icily.

Daniel glanced away.

"If you're not going to wear the sling, you're not digging," she said. Daniel glared at her, and she ignored him. "Exercise that arm," she said. "_Gently_. Tomorrow, I'll let you back on."

Daniel nodded, surprising himself with his acquesence. He wanted some time to sort things out, and he could feel his own unease at the future beating at him. He walked to the tent, gathering up his gun and staff, and unobtrusively made his way to the beach. Over a dune out of sight of the dig, he shrugged out of his shirt, trying to get a look for himself at the damage to his arm.

The stunning tapestry of livid marks was like an abhorrent painting across the upper left section of his body. Frowning, Daniel slowly rotated his shoulderblade, feeling the intense ache as he worked the joint. Lifting his arm out to the side, he moved the limb in a slow, sweeping circle. He hissed at the pain, and transferred the staff into his left hand. This was probably one of the stupider things he was going to do in his life, he reflected grimly.

Exhaling swiftly, Daniel began the most basic pattern dance. He stopped three moves into the sequence, finding tears of pain on his cheeks. He had never realized just how much motion was involved.

Slowing down, he began again. The staff moved in a slow, mesmerizing arc across the front of his body, and was transferred to his right hand. Daniel sped up, the staff a mere blur in the air, raising a wind against his skin as it whistled past.

The staff transferred back to his left hand, and Daniel slowed down again, this part of the dance the languid flight of a butterfly, the steady movement of water. Forward, back, up -

The staff fell to the ground as Daniel attempted to pass it back to his right hand across his shoulders.

Breathing hard, he massaged the protesting joint. Sweat beaded along his forehead, streaming down his torso. Daniel squinted at the hot sun, which was pounding down, reflecting off the sand and water. It was very hot - much like Abydos. Daniel smiled in fond memory despite his discomfort. He missed Skaara and Kasuf, the people of his adopted home.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up his shirt, pulling it on but not bothering to button the garment. Securing the gun at the small of his back, he used the staff as a stave to help him make his way across the sand. Entering the camp, he found that it was midmorning.

Lingering at the water barrels near the pavilion, Daniel wiped the sweat from his face as he drank. Surveying the activity of the dig, he realized that Teal'c was standing guard on the NID agent, while Jack and Sam were maintaining the perimeter. They obviously expected another attack by the NID. Daniel realized that they were probably correct in assuming that when their agents failed to report in, the NID would inspect the area more closely. Time for travel would have to be allowed, but he frowned when he realized that even leaving the day after tomorrow would be cutting it close.

Daniel took another drink, and saw Teal'c catch his eye. The Jaffa gave him a significant look, and Daniel walked over to the tent. "What is it, Teal'c?"

"The prisoner has been asking for you all morning," the Jaffa responded. Daniel frowned.

"Why would he do that?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, Daniel ducked under the tent flap. Teal'c followed noiselessly.

"Dr. Jackson."

Daniel stared at the man.

The operative's pale face was red and his body soaked in sweat. His short, dark hair was spiked with perspiration. He had been tied for nearly three days, let loose only to take care of personal needs and to walk around for half an hour each day. He was constantly in the company of SG-1, and never out of sight of a wary, armed member of the dig.

The operative took a deep breathing, seemingly gathering what remained of his dignity. "I am authorized to offer you an opportunity at Area 51."

Daniel kept his face impassive. "We've already had this conversation."

"And I'm willing to overlook your previous response, now that you've had time to consider the offer."

"Just who are you?" Daniel asked. "How does the authority inherent in this decision rest with you?"

"I am Colonel Marcus Kenoya," the man replied. "My superior is directly in charge of a project which requires your expertise."

"And what would that be?" Daniel already knew the answer to this question.

"The artifact which I mentioned to you earlier. It is believed to be a source of clean, limitless energy. Given the data collected so far, my superior believes that many of the components of the device are materials commonly found on Earth. However, there is writing on the outside canister of the device which our linguists are unable to decipher. They believe that the script contains instructions on how to correctly open the device."

"You just told me that these linguists are unable to translate the language," Daniel pointed out. "For all they know, that writing is a chronicle of the device's significance in its native culture, or the bragging rights of the Goa'uld who created it."

The NID operative was silent only for a moment. "We still require your expertise in this matter, Dr. Jackson. As it is clear that you no longer have a place at the SGC, we would like to offer you a permanent position with Area 51."

Daniel didn't pause before responding. "No." His disgust for the NID wasn't the only factor he was taking into consideration - the way the operative had said permanent' made him uneasy.

"Is this your final decision?"

Daniel looked sideways at the operative, his stare harsh. "What do you think?" Without waiting for any other response, he left the tent, Teal'c behind him.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Daniel murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked back at the tent.

"As do I," Teal'c told him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ok, wow. I think I gave everyone a scare - let me fix it. I fully intend to keep writing. FULLY. And I AM NOT cutting this story off - just taking a necessary hiatus while I do several things I must for college that I've become wonderful at procrastinating about. Also, after this hiatus posting is likely to be "sporadic and unreliable". Which is why I'm hesitant to continue immediately - I'd much rather be regular and reliable. S'more fun for all involved, and I think it nets me more reviews, too (shifty look). Just to reassure you all on the now much-cursed/mocked so-called "productions deadline date" which only = less regular, and probably very delayed posting. Whew. Feel better?


	23. Chapter 23

"O'Neill."

Jack turned away from the empty desertland before him. He gazed past the Jaffa, taking stock of the teachers and students working on the dig, before meeting Teal'c's gaze. "Yea. What is it?"

Teal'c lowered his voice. "Daniel Jackson and I just spoke with the prisoner."

Jack looked for Daniel, but he couldn't see him. "What for?"

"The man had been asking for Daniel Jackson repeatedly during the day. I notified him of this fact, and Daniel Jackson spoke with him for a few moments. The prisoner renewed his offer to Daniel Jackson, and spoke at some length of the device which his superior has acquired."

"I don't like this," Jack said. "Daniel turned him down?"

"Indeed."

"The third time he's been asked to work for the NID," Jack asked. "What is _with _these guys? Don't they get that no means no?"

"I do not believe so," Teal'c returned. "I found myself disturbed at the demeanor of the prisoner. Daniel Jackson was unnerved as well."

"Yea. How's Daniel doing?"

Teal'c raised a brow. "I believe he was disconcerted by speaking with the prisoner. Perhaps you should determine his feelings on the subject." A not-so-subtle prod for Jack to talk to Daniel.

"Good idea," Jack murmured.

"Yes."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Cover the perimeter, and tell Carter to keep an eye on our guest, huh?"

Teal'c nodded, and Jack took several steps from the Jaffa, scanning the site for Daniel. He saw the archaeologist in question moving through the palm grove, empty-handed, and surmised from his direction that Daniel was heading toward the sea.

Without rushing, Jack began moving in the same direction, nodding to those he passed. He emerged from the grove several minutes later, glad that he had been on higher ground when he'd spotted Daniel.

He was growing a little frustrated searching for his wayward archaeologist, deprived of the ability to shout for him without calling unwanted attention to himself. He made his way through a stretch of land about ten yards in width that was covered with scrub, before the land dropped down to sandy dunes leading to the sea. As he reached the drop-off point, he found himself high above the dunes, looking down on the beach.

He scanned the sands, and saw Daniel standing motionless in the even sand of high tide. It was low tide now, and the ground was firmest where it had been packed by the waves, near where Daniel was positioned, facing the ocean. Knowing that Daniel probably wouldn't be able to hear him, Jack didn't bother shouting. Instead, he slithered down the sand, moving over the dunes toward his linguist.

He reached the top of the dune, and saw Daniel moving slowly, a knife in each hand. His motions were easy and unhurried. His entire body was in harmony, legs and arms moving with a grace foreign to the man Jack had met five years ago. Movements that Jack could recognize as strikes and blocks blended seamlessly into one another as Daniel practiced.

He was so concentrated on the movements, on incorporating knife fighting with the traditional Budo, that Jack's presence barely registered on his consciousness. Daniel continued to move, speeding up slightly.

Jack started as Daniel abruptly stopped. "Jack," he said.

"Daniel," Jack said, looking him up and down.

Daniel waited, raising a brow.

"I heard that the rat in the tent had something to say to you."

"Yeah." Daniel glanced at him. He concentrated on his boots, lacing them up almost one-handed. "He asked me to work for the NID again."

"That makes, what? Three times?"

Daniel nodded, replacing his knives - one in each boot. "When did you start - " Jack motioned at the blades.

Daniel said, "I always carry something in the desert."

"Always?"

Daniel shrugged, reaching for his shirt. He mopped his face and chest, squinting. "I was on a dig in Central America about ten years ago, when a group of local outlaws overran our camp. One of our guides, Jorje, was an expert at knife-fighting. He taught me a bit."

Jack nodded. "Smart."

"On Abydos, there was always the risk of poisonous desert animals. I got a lot of practice." Daniel stood and looked at Jack. "Did you need me for something?"

__

Yea, Danny. I need you back with us. SG-1 - hell, the whole SGC, needs you. We always have. What can I do to get you to come back? Can you ever forgive us?

"Ah, yea. We - uh, we need to talk about what's going down when we get back to base."

"Huh?" Daniel looked puzzled. Jack could've kicked himself. Talk about a lame excuse.__

Jack scrambled for something more plausible. "We're moving up the ship-out date. We're getting out tomorrow morning, early. Before the dirt-grubbers pull the tarps off and start work."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

Jack looked at the sea, pulled his sunglasses off and faced Daniel. "I don't want the NID to find anything when they come calling."

"You think they'll be here soon?"

"I'm kinda surprised they haven't shown up yet."

Daniel didn't look very surprised. He nodded slowly.

"You still with us?" Jack held his breath, hoping that he wasn't pushing, wasn't sending any signals that would scare Danny off.

Daniel glanced at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack." The archaeologist moved easily through the sand toward the dunes.

"Danny? Where you going?"

Daniel didn't even glance back. "Gotta talk to Mac, and then pack my stuff."

Jack scowled at mention of the energetic, fiery Scot. He mumbled under his breath, "Napoleonic power-monger. Almost as bad as. . ."

"Did you say something, Jack?"

"Who, me?"

Daniel turned and gazed at the too-innocent expression on the Colonel's face. A smile twitched on his lips, and he ducked his head before it broke past his control. Turning away, he couldn't hold in the grin."You know," he said casually, "Mac's been writing postscripts on some of my letters to Janet. They're getting along famously."

Jack groaned. "My worst nightmare."

Daniel grinned. The two walked back to the camp in a companionable silence, which was a change from the recent tension-filled periods of quiet. They weren't back to their usual banter, but things were easy between them for the first time in over a year.

They split on reaching the camp, Daniel to explain his leaving to Mac, and Jack to let Teal'c and Sam know about their moved-up departure.

"Didn't want to give Daniel the chance to change his mind?" Carter asked shrewdly once he told her. Teal'c also looked as if he suspected this to be O'Neill's true reason for early lift off.

"When their agents don't check in on schedule, the NID will send more out to find out what happened," Jack retorted, neatly sidestepping the question and changing the subject at the same time.

The hard fact sobered Carter. "In all probability, they're on their way."

"And I plan to be somewhere else by the time they get here. Preferably several thousand miles east of here."

"West, sir," Carter responded."It's shorter that way."

Jack raised a brow. "Okay then!"

Carter smiled, before turning and going back to the chopper. "I will assist Major Carter in preparing the helicopter," Teal'c said.

"You - do that." Jack turned back to the pavilion. The lunch bell had been rung when Daniel and Jack were on the beach. The archaeologist was talking with Galya and Mac, letting them know that he was planning to leave.

He saw the teacher's table as a lone, quiet island in the sea of chattering students. Daniel was the only one speaking, and the professors and grad students looked unhappy. Mac said something, and Daniel frowned at him, responding emphatically. Galya made a quiet statement, and Daniel's face relaxed. He spoke with them for a few more minutes, and Mac nodded. The grizzled professor caught sight of Jack, and an angry, mutinous expression crossed his face.

Daniel glanced around the table, stood and made to leave. Louie caught his arm, easing him back down, while Ziv offered him food. Apparently, Daniel had forgotten to eat. Jack was both heartened to see others taking care of Daniel, and pained to realize that he had lost that privilege.

He saw that Mac had excused himself and was heading his way. Jack whistled soundlessly, and turned, moving to a less exposed location. If they were gonna do this, he didn't need any witnesses.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the Scot demanded.

Jack felt the shorter man bristling at him. "I'm taking the prisoner, and I'm taking Daniel, and we're going back to the States."

"Do you have any _idea _what you did to that boy?" Mac demanded. "When he came here, he was silent. He rarely spoke, and held himself so tightly we were afraid he'd break if he fell. It took us a few days, but he opened up. He relaxed, he was happy. Then you showed up, and it's like the last three and a half weeks never happened. The passion he's had for life is _gone _- buried."

"I know," Jack responded quietly.

"The hell you do," Mac snapped. The older professor was incensed.

Jack felt his temper, and his voice, rise. "Dammit, get off your high horse! I've known Daniel much longer than you. Hell, he was my best friend. Do you think I can't see how he's changed? Do you think I don't know how badly I screwed up?"

"No, I don't think you do," Mac retorted. "What do you think going back there is going to do to him? He's planning on coming back."

Jack paled. "He - he doesn't want - "

Mac snorted. "He wants to go back, or he wouldn't be going. He wants to go back, he wants your friendship, more than he wants this." Mac gestured widely, encompassing the entire dig in the motion. Jack was staggered. "I think he's preparing himself just in case. But so help me God, if you throw that boy away and he comes back here, trying to put himself back together, there will be nowhere on this planet you'll be able to hide from us."

Jack believed the older professor. "I - we - won't make that mistake again."

Mac eyed him disbelievingly. "I don't know how you did it, but you hurt him. I don't think he'll let you close enough to do it again." Jack closed his eyes in pain. "If he does," Mac continued, "he's a better man than I."

- - - - - - - -

Aw, come on. I wasn't gonna make it THAT easy. After all, I strive for realism, here. (grins).


	24. Chapter 24

The flames were warm on his skin. Daniel stared into the fire, entranced by the play of colors. The music had been going since ten, and it was now midnight. The archaeologists were giving him a magnificent send-off.

He yawned a little, and stood. Saying a few last quiet goodbyes, he headed for the tent. He'd packed and stowed his bag in the chopper after lunch, returning to the Essene site until dark.

Pulling aside the flap, Daniel saw Tobe and Kate sitting side by side, waiting for him. "Hey guys," Daniel said, raising a brow.

"Daniel," Tobe said. They both stood, jumping off the cot. There was a short moment of silence. "Katie and I wanted to thank you for what you did for me, the other night."

Daniel knew immediately what he was talking about. He shook his head, but knew that the only right thing he could do was to gracefully accept. "You're welcome," he responded. "But it really wasn't that big a deal."

Katie laughed a little. "It's not every day you trade places in front of a gun for someone."

Daniel smiled. "You'd be surprised. But you're welcome."

"We also wanted you to be the first on the dig to know - we're getting married."

Daniel grinned. "Congratulations!"

Anyone who had seen the two in each others' company could see the love between them. They were devoted to one another, and to archaeology. Daniel had been witness to a few fights and make-ups, and their willingness to work to improve their relationship was remarkable.

"We're going to wait until Katie graduates, of course," Tobe added. Katie smiled at him, and Daniel spied a ring on her left hand. They were officially engaged.

"I'm sure you'll be very happy together," Daniel said, still smiling. Their happiness was contagious. "I wish you all the best."

After quiet thank-you's, Katie went to her tent while Tobe and Daniel bunked down for the night. Daniel slept restlessly, waking every time he tossed and turned in the sleeping bag. With only a few hours till dawn, he gave up, getting dressed and walking around the dig in the early morning. He went to the tents housing the artifacts, and walked among the tables of discovered relics. He ran his fingers lightly over the burnished edges of the bronze firepan he had found, remembering the moment of discovery. A contented feeling filled him, under the canvas and surrounded by remnants of ages past.

He stayed there until the first rays of sunshine began to lighten the inside of the tent. Pulling the flap aside, Daniel walked around the exterior of the dig, taking the opportunity to say goodbye to a place that had come to signify home. He traversed the dig, at one point crouching to run his hands through the dirt. Daniel walked to the bluff overlooking the ocean and stood for some moments, gazing at the waves.

He turned at a sound behind him, and saw Mac walking through the brush toward him. "Morning," the Scot called softly.

Daniel nodded, not breaking his silence.

Mac moved up next to him, staring at the waves.

"I guess I'll have to take a raincheck on our debate," he sighed eventually.

The older professor smiled a little, the wind playing with his wild hair. "I want to ask you something, Daniel," he said brusquely. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Daniel was slightly perturbed by the older man's unusual behavior. "Shoot," he said.

Mac took a deep breath. "Is what you're leaving here worth what you're gaining back in America?"

Daniel turned the question over in his mind. He smiled a little. "I've been asking myself that ever since Jack, Sam and - Murray showed up." He considered a bit more. "I really don't know, Mac. What I stand to gain is priceless compared to what I'm leaving behind."

"And what is that?" Mac was openly curious now. The younger man, while talkative and inquisitive, rarely shared much about himself.

"Family," Daniel said.

And Mac understood. The archaeology paled in comparison to something of that magnitude.

"The job -" here Daniel's mouth twisted a little. "I did love it, for all its ups and downs. I still might. I don't know - the job itself was never really the issue. If we can move forward, get beyond the problems that split us up, then I want to give it another go."

Mac smiled, happy that the younger archaeologist had a plan. "Jack, Miss Carter and Murray seem to want that."

Daniel was silent. It was good to know that the others wanted this as much as he did, but that reassurance was a small step towards regaining trust between them. He had no doubt that the others still trusted him the same way they always had, despite his running out a month before. But his faith in them was shattered. Picking itself up, putting itself back together, but still in hundreds of pieces.

"I know that it won't be easy for you," Mac said suddenly, the seriousness back in his tone. "But don't write them off until you have to."

Daniel looked at the professor in surprise.

"I've seen how much they care about you," Mac continued. "If it's a fraction of what it used to be, and there's the slightest chance of getting it back, don't let anything get in the way."

Daniel smiled. "Thanks, Mac."

The professor winked impertinently. "That, however, is as profound as I get without my coffee," he finished. "Take care, Daniel."

The other nodded. "You too, Mac. If you have any more problems with people sneaking around the dig - let me know." If the NID was still looking for him, they might try the dig again, and he'd have to persuade Hammond to call them on it.

Mac nodded. "Good luck."

Daniel smiled, and the two men turned away from the sea, headed in different directions.

Daniel made his way to the chopper, noticing the first signs of students stirring in their tents. When he reached the machine, he found Sam beginning the pre-flight checks. Teal'c was stowing the gear securely, and Jack was nowhere to be found. Daniel stuck his head inside, and said, "Anything I can do?"

"No, I think we got it covered," Sam said, turning to him with a grin.

"Indeed," Teal'c responded.

"How are we getting home?" Daniel asked. Teal'c's lips twitched at his unconscious use of the term 'home' in relation to Colorado Springs.

Sam smiled. "We're going to chopper to Tel Aviv, then take a military transport to Denver, stopping in London and New York to refuel."

Daniel grimaced. "My flight here was across the Pacific and Siberia. Stopover in Tokyo."

Sam winced. "Sounds long and - grueling."

Daniel shrugged. "It was the only thing I could get on such short notice."

"Good morning, campers!" Jack was enthusiastic, nearly bouncing with excitement. Daniel was coming home!

"Morning, sir," Carter replied, turning back to her controls.

Jack handed Daniel a cup of coffee, and was surprised when the archaeologist gave it a considering glance. "Did you put any sugar in this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Ah, no," Jack replied, puzzled.

"Good," Daniel murmured, a mischievous smile crossing his face. He sipped carefully, and then again with greater enthusiasm. "Who's awake at the tent?"

"Most every-"

Jack's statement was cut off by a thunderous screech from the pavilion. Daniel's eyes widened and he scrambled into the helicopter and out of sight.

"What the hell was _that_?" Jack asked in horrified fascination. Teal'c was staring at the tent, puzzled.

"Revenge is best served cold, to the terminally unsuspecting," Daniel responded, peering cautiously toward the pavilion before ducking back out of sight.

"Danny?"

The archaeologist asked, "Sam, how soon before we're ready to leave?"

"Five minutes, maybe ten," she replied, somewhat confused.

"Do you think you could speed it up?"

Jack caught sight of red hair emerging from the pavilion several hundred yards away. "Danny, Galya looks pissed," Jack said frankly.

The archaeologist swore under his breath. Jack didn't recognize the language, but he knew a curse when he heard one. "Danny, she's headed this way," Jack hissed, noticing the fiery-haired professor lock onto their position with all the single-minded focus of an armed missile.

Daniel grimaced, and then decided to play ignorant for a bit, and see how far it got him. He climbed nonchalantly out of the chopper, praying that Sam hurried. Leaning against the metal casing, he noted that Jack hadn't been exaggerating - in fact, he might have understated the case a bit. Galya was _fuming_.

"Daniel Jackson!" she shouted. The young man winced. "What the hell _is_ this?"

"What?" Daniel asked, feigning both ignorance and interest.

"There's no sugar," Galya roared. She was a terrifying morning person. Jack cowered against the side of the helicopter, and even Teal'c looked taken aback. Sam was the only one safe - inside the cockpit. "It's all _salt_," the Latin professor finished with an outraged bellow.

"Classic," Jack murmured softly, a grin twitching on his face. When Galya's gaze hit him, however, he muttered something about pre-flight checks and beat a hasty retreat into the chopper.

Daniel decided that innocence would no longer serve him. "Galya," he drawled. Hearing the tone in his voice, the woman's face turned into a wary scowl. "_Decaf_?"

For a moment, there was silence. A range of emotions swept across Galya's countenance. Confusion, comprehension, outrage.

The next sound everyone heard was Galya's raucous laughter. She caught Daniel up in a hug, squeezing the taller man tightly. "God, I'm going to miss you," she said, stepping back and sniffing slightly. She smiled up at him. "Take care of yourself," she managed, eyes bright with tears.

Daniel smiled back at her, and said conspiratorially, "I had help."

Galya's face transformed into an expression of vengeful calculation. "I will have my revenge," she murmured wickedly.

Daniel shuddered dramatically. "Don't mess with their minds too much," he cautioned, smiling.

"I know," she responded, continuing with the other half of the teachers' maxim for this dig. "There has to be something left to grade!"

Daniel grinned.

"We're ready," Sam said from inside the chopper. Daniel glanced up, and saw that many of the teachers and students were leaving the pavilion, coming to see him off.

"Let's get this show on the road," Jack murmured. "Danny, you ready?"

Daniel looked around the dig, and at the approaching group. He smiled a little. "Yea, I'm ready," he responded. He squeezed Galya's hand, both of them ignoring how teary she became at the gesture.

Daniel climbed into the chopper, giving a last wave to the crowd of students, all shouting goodbyes and well wishes. The door shut and he fastened himself into his seat, behind Jack and next to Teal'c.

"There's no place like home," he heard Jack say cheerfully.

Sam started up the motor, and the rotary blades began spinning, kicking up dust. Daniel glanced back at the NID agent, who was secured - and securely unconscious - in the back of the helicopter.

He felt the chopper lift off the ground, and within moments they were high above Ein Gedi. Daniel peered down, at the oasis and the Dead Sea, the people who he'd come to care for still grouped together, staring up at him. He was leaving, as suddenly as he'd arrived.

Daniel settled back to rest. It was going to be a long flight.

Yes, I'm still alive. Just wanted to apprise you that the story will continue (soon I hope) in the sequel, SHIDACHI. J


End file.
